I walk for miles along the highway. Well, that's just my way of sayin' I love you. I'm always walkin' after midnight. Searchin' for you.
Bye Bye Love
Walkin' After Midnight
Bird Dog
I tried so hard my dear to show that you're my every dream. Yet you're afraid each thing I do is just some evil scheme.
Now blue ain't the world for the way that I feel. And the storm's brewing in this heart of mine.
Put your sweet lips a little closer to the phone. Just pretend that we're together all alone.
Cattle Call
He'll Have to Go
Moanin' the Blues
As I sit here tonight the jukebox playing. The tune about the wild side of life. As I listen to the words you are saying. It brings memories when I was a trusting wife.
Well, since my baby left me, I found a new place to dwell. It's down at the end of lonely street. At Heartbreak Hotel.
That big eight wheeler rollin' down the track. Means your true lovin' Daddy ain't commin' back. Because I'm Movin' On. I'll soon be gone
A Satisfied Mind
Mystery Train
I'm Movin' On
In 1814 we took a little trip. Along with Colonel Jackson down the mighty Mississippi. We took a little bacon and we took a little beans. And we caught the bloody British in the town of New Orleans.
Some people say a man is made outta mud. A poor man's made outta muscle and blood. Muscle and blood and skin and bones. A mind that's a-weak and a back that's strong.
Shotgun Boogie
Teddy Bear
Sixteen Tons
Well, in the North of Carolina, way back in the hills. Me and my old pappy and he had him a still. He brewed white lightnin' till the sun went down. And then you'd fill him a jug and he'd pass it around.
I hear the train a comin'. It's rolling round the bend. And I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when.
Don't Cry Daddy
I'm Sorry
Folsom Prison Blues
I can make you mine. Taste your lips of wine. Anytime night or day. Only trouble is. Gee whiz. I'm dreamin' my life away.
You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain. Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will, oh what a thrill.
Peter Cottontail
Hey Good Lookin'
Great Balls of Fire
A well I bless my soul. What's wrong with me? I'm itching like a man on a fuzzy tree. My friends say I'm actin' wild as a bug.
One Comment