Streets of Gold

Well ran dry, cedar whiskey ran cold

He put down his plow, for forty-four

Some would come up, said he’d never go back to sleep

Said, “I’ve never had a plan for a better life

Just killed a man for his better night

And try as I may, try as I might

I’ll never make it out alive.”

So lay it down low, swing it on sweet chariot

Could you come and take me, to the streets paved with gold

The people gonna know my name

Girl, it done gone by the time he woke

With whiskey in his eyes and his hair full of smoke

You wish someday she’d stay around for good

Said, “You’ve never been a man of the loving kind

Not that I care, and not that I mind

’Cause you’re only gonna be here for tonight no more.”

So lay it down low, swing it on sweet chariot

Could you come and take me, to the streets paved with gold

The people gonna know my name

His hands have done curled, and his fists are gray

And 85 years and a ripe old age, wished somebody burned the page or two

Said, “I guess I’ll sit around here and wait to die

Forgot how to laugh, I never learned how to cry

I wish I had wings, so I could fly away.”

Lay it down low, swing it on sweet chariot

Could you come and take me, to the streets paved with gold

The people gonna know my name

Lay it down low, swing it on sweet chariot

Could you come and take me, to the streets paved with gold

The people gonna know my name