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Dylan Bob - Текст песни Santa Fe
by Bob Dylan
Santa-Fe,
Dear, dear, dear, dear, dear Santa-Fe,
My woman needs it ev'ryday,
She promised this a-lad she'd stay,
She's rollin' up a lotta bread
To toss away.
She's in Santa-Fe,
Dear, dear, dear, dear, dear Santa-Fe
Now she's opened up an old maid's home,
She's proud, but she needs to roam,
She's gonna write herself a roadside poem,
About Santa-Fe.
Santa-Fe,
Dear, dear, dear, dear Santa-Fe.
Since I'm never gonna cease to roam,
I'm never, ever far from home,
But I'll build a geodesic domeDylan Bob - Santa Fe - http://ru.motolyrics.com/dylan-bob/santa-fe-lyrics.html
And sail away.
Don't feel bad.
No, no, no, no, don't feel bad
It's the best food I've ever had.
Makes me feel so glad
That she's cooking in a home-made pad
She never caught a cold so bad
When I'm away.
Santa-Fe,
Dear, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear Santa-Fe.
My shrimp boat's in the bay
I won't have my nature this way,
And I'm leanin' on the wheel each day
To drift away
From Santa-Fe,
Dear, dear, dear, dear, dear Santa-Fe.
My sister looks good at home,
She's lickin' on an ice cream cone,
She's packin' her big white comb, What does it weigh?