Vídeo musical

The Kid
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Créditos

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Ben Nichols
Ben Nichols
Performer
Nick Smith
Nick Smith
Trombone
Tony Rogers
Tony Rogers
Cello

Letras

Your mother died the night you were born, her name you never knew. Look away, look away, nothing to lose. Left east Tennessee at fourteen, wandered to the west. Look away, look away, born into death. You fought the sailors in New Orleans, you worked the flatboats and walked the streets, you hit Nacogdoches in '49, and there you saw the devil for the very first time. Kid, don't you know me? We are the last of the troop. Drink up, drink up. Drink up, drink up, cause tonight your soul's required of you. Signed on with a stone mad captain, rode on Mexico. Look away, look away, war behold. Jailed with killers one and all, but we were killers free. Look away, look away, look to me. You saw the lancers amid heathen hordes, bloodstained veils and costumes of war. Well, hell ain't half-full boy, hear me. War is the game and the god that we seek. Kid, don't you know me? We are the last of the troop. Drink up, drink up. Drink up, drink up, cause tonight your soul's required of you. We set out as men of reason, armed with navy Colts. Look away, look away, work paid in gold. But you stood witness to yourself, our trial you did betray. Look away, look away, till judgment day. We killed in the desert, we killed in the streets, we showed what shall and what shall not be, we stood with pistols, fought back-to-back. And now you've stood your ground, but what ground is that? Kid, don't you know me? We are the last of the troop. Drink up, drink up. Drink up, drink up, cause tonight your soul's required of you.
Writer(s): Benjamin Nichols Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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