#----------------------------------PLEASE NOTE---------------------------------#
#This file is the author's own work and represents their interpretation of the #
#song. You may only use this file for private study, scholarship, or research. #
#------------------------------------------------------------------------------#
#
Return-path:
Received: from mail.tamu.edu (TAMU.EDU) by ttacs.ttu.edu (PMDF V4.3-7 #5184)
id <01HDSVLHTPLC9KN9JV@ttacs.ttu.edu>; Tue, 21 Jun 1994 11:09:33 CST
Received: from TAMUTS.TAMU.EDU by mail.tamu.edu with SMTP id AA01167
(5.67b/IDA-1.5 for ); Tue, 21 Jun 1994 10:57:38 -0500
Received: by tamuts.tamu.edu (/\==/\ Smail #25.2)
id ; Tue, 21 Jun 94 10:57 CDT
Date: Tue, 21 Jun 1994 10:57:37 -0600 (CDT)
From: jacobw@tamuts.tamu.edu (Jacob Robert Wilson)
Subject: OOPS! and one more try!!
To: ribtm@ttacs.ttu.edu
Message-id:
MIME-version: 1.0
X-Mailer: ELM [version 2.4 PL22]
Content-type: text/plain; charset=US-ASCII
Content-transfer-encoding: 7bit
Content-length: 1488
Someplace Far Away
by: Hal Ketchum
D
Daddy brought home a photograph
G D
from the paper yesterday.
D
It showed a line of wagons
G A
Movin' someplace far away.
G
That picture made my Daddy smile
D A Bm
And it made my Momma cry.
G
Seems like Daddy's wagonload of dreams
A
have long since passed him by.
CHORUS:
G
And the dreams that make a sparrow fly
D
can make an eagle fall.
G
One that makes a rich man money
D A
Ain't no dream at all.
G
It's a crying shame to wake up
D A Bm
Just to find its all been broke in two.
G D
Careful what your dreamin' cause it someday may come true.
2. Well, he talked on all through suppertime
'bout a good prospector's life.
Couldn't see Momma didn't want to be
No good prospector's wife.
He said we best sail out and go
before the weather turns to cold.
Maybe buy ourselves an extry horse
to carry all that gold.
CHORUS:
3. Well, I got up as soon as the first light came
to start the mornin' fire.
Wonderin' if my Momma's will
Cooled that man's desire.
And inside the stove upon the coals
And ash and paper lay.
Was a ghostly line of wagons
movin' someplace far away.
CHORUS:
(repeat last line of chorus)
There! I think that should erase the brain fart.
Later.
| 
