Red Sovine

Текст песни Bootlegger King

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Red Sovine
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Red Sovine - Текст песни Bootlegger King

Born just south of Knoxville to a family both humble and poor

Never asked for anything at the early age of ten delivered
newspapers door to door

Then when he was in his teens he dreamed and scheemed for finer things

And he finally figured out what he would do

To be a big time business man he went and hired old Hoke and Stan

And he started holdin' Chattanooga booze

Soon his pockets filled with money and his fingers
sported flashing diamond rings

He had all he'd ever wanted when they labelled him the bootlegger king

He always trusted Stan and Hoke to do exactly as were told

They were hired to drive and not to think

A smooth talking business man and he convinced old Hoke and Stan

That booze was made for selling not to drink

That old spring city fally never knew what all it carried

But they knew when she unloaded by the banks

Two rusty rigs roared out of there brakin' scrapin' jammin' gears

Disguised to look like gasoline tanks

He knew the ways of opperate runnin' Highway 58

Right on into Kingston Tennessee

To make the sheriff turn his back and face that old green pole and jack

And swap the load at junction Dixie Lee
Red Sovine - Bootlegger King - http://ru.motolyrics.com/red-sovine/bootlegger-king-lyrics.html
That bootlegger king's fingers flashed with diamond rings

And the lawman never knew quite where to wait

But they knew it for the truth for a load of hundred proof

He would flash his old pearl handled 38

Then one day he met a girl the sweetest thing in all the world

He knew the time had come to change his life

But it kinda hurt to go to church to find the ones that got there first

Was the same crooks he dealt with just last night

The only thing that they believed is honor among the thieves

And he found a lot of partners on the scene

The choir's mouth were opened wide and that old deacon's bloodshot eyes

Were focused on that bootlegger king

He sat there on the mourners bench that new born baby made him think

He knew he had a lot he must confess

He knew enough to write a book with every name of every crook

So he'd expose the whole rotten mess

And now he's got his conscience clear he still don't know the name of beer

Though true friends are few and far between

He ain't proud of what he had to do he's heard the
words that said the truth

They're out to get that bootlegger king

That bootlegger king's fingers...

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