Lletres:
Clay Tom

Traducció: Tom Clay. El que el món necessita ara és amor / Abraham, Martin i John.

Listen boy Don't want to see you let a good thing Slip away You know I don't like watching Anybody make the same mistakes I made She's a real nice

on, come on keep it moving here, what's your name boy? Abu Cah, well it ain't now, it's Tom Lynch Mirror, mirror what you see? Have I still got those

it coming off the sea As I sit here reading old Graham Greene I taste Africa on every page Then I close my eyes and see those red clay roads, and it?

rest a deed Oklahoma was rich with the stench of black oil And the men who came there to drill In the sun baked clay of Indian lands There, in the desolate

my dreams There are no laws She's made of cream She's such a scream Qui bon tres bien, nails in cement A Donnie gal from mortal clay The plow is red

love With a young lass from Gyetsid And I call 'er my dove Her name's Cushie Butterfield And she sells yellow clay And 'er cousins a muckman And they call him Tom

(Traditional) [Chorus:] Hang down your head, Tom Dooley Hang down your head and cry Hang down your head, Tom Dooley Poor boy, you're bound to die I

I think of Andy in the cold wet clay Those three are on my mind With his comrades down beside him On that brutal day Those three are on my mind There