#----------------------------------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.