My Life
Syenta
I decided to provide a copy of this so users don’t get confused about who to attribute for the words (or my spoken words) should they wish to use them. Please feel free to do as RadioTimes and amend the words to fit whatever music you choose to use (I mean I won’t be offended if you do change anything). You will also see I have changed at least two words so things scan a little better so they differ slightly from the words Radiotimes so kindly provided on his My Life page here: http://ccmixter.org/files/r...
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My Life by Stephen Wilson
I was born on the river where the water runs so slow.
I was born on a river which had no place to go.
The land all around was devoid of trees and a soul.
I was born on a river that became my home.
My Ma and Pa had lived there all their lives.
They’d worked flat out to carve out a life.
But things were hard and the drink didn’t help.
And died together in a domestic gun fight.
So at the age of 20 I made up my mind.
To get out of there and find me a wife.
I headed for the city where I felt out of place.
In dungarees, boots, straw hat and a pipe.
There I found Sue who like me had left home.
To find herself a fortune, husband and son.
So we hooked up for a day but tied the knot.
Happy in marital bliss but totally broke.
The baby came soon after and called him Hank.
He screamed and screamed both day and night.
But we sorted that out real damned quick.
With a shot of Bourbon and water mix.
Life in the city didn’t work out as planned.
No money in the bank and debts sky high.
So on to the Greyhound and straight back home.
Back to the river where the water runs so slow.
Life on the river is real damn hard.
Nickel and dime pay for loading a barge.
But whiskey is cheap at a dollar a shot.
Hank aged now ten comes out on top.
Life they say goes round in circles.
That could be true after shooting my wife.
My son’s in care soon to be adopted.
While I languish here incarcerated.
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—————— The words are below this line ——————
My Life by Stephen Wilson
I was born on the river where the water runs so slow.
I was born on a river which had no place to go.
The land all around was devoid of trees and a soul.
I was born on a river that became my home.
My Ma and Pa had lived there all their lives.
They’d worked flat out to carve out a life.
But things were hard and the drink didn’t help.
And died together in a domestic gun fight.
So at the age of 20 I made up my mind.
To get out of there and find me a wife.
I headed for the city where I felt out of place.
In dungarees, boots, straw hat and a pipe.
There I found Sue who like me had left home.
To find herself a fortune, husband and son.
So we hooked up for a day but tied the knot.
Happy in marital bliss but totally broke.
The baby came soon after and called him Hank.
He screamed and screamed both day and night.
But we sorted that out real damned quick.
With a shot of Bourbon and water mix.
Life in the city didn’t work out as planned.
No money in the bank and debts sky high.
So on to the Greyhound and straight back home.
Back to the river where the water runs so slow.
Life on the river is real damn hard.
Nickel and dime pay for loading a barge.
But whiskey is cheap at a dollar a shot.
Hank aged now ten comes out on top.
Life they say goes round in circles.
That could be true after shooting my wife.
My son’s in care soon to be adopted.
While I languish here incarcerated.
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