Well, the bills are all due and the babies need shoes.
We’re busted.
We’ve had a hard time since they closed down the mines.
We’re busted.
Got a cow that's gone dry and a hen that won't lay,
A big stack of bills that gets bigger each day.
Tomorrow they’ll haul our belongings away.
We’re busted.
Well, our friends are all leaving this 'ol mining town.
We’re busted.
They’re heading up North where there’s work to be found.
And trusted.
Lord, I hate to give up this acre of land.
It’s been in the family since mining began.
But babies get hungry, they don’t understand
We’re busted.
We’re busted.
Yes, we’re busted.
We’re heading up North and we ain’t coming back.
We’re busted.
I called brother John, thought I'd ask for a loan.
We was busted.
Lord, I hate to beg like a dog for a bone
But we’re busted.
Brother John lost his job and his rent’s overdue.
His wife and his kids are all down with the flu.
He said, “I was thinkin' of callin' on you.
I'm busted.”
Lord, my old man’s no thief, but a good man turns bad
When he's busted.
My babies ain’t well and it’s drivin' me mad
Cause we’re busted.
Gonna sell that 'ol Guernsey and give up this shack.
Come on now children, help mama get packed.
We’re headin up North and we ain’t comin' back.
We’re busted.
We’re busted.
Yes, we’re busted.
We’re heading up North and we ain’t coming back.
We’re busted.
We’re busted.
We’ve had a hard time since they closed down the mines.
We’re busted.
Got a cow that's gone dry and a hen that won't lay,
A big stack of bills that gets bigger each day.
Tomorrow they’ll haul our belongings away.
We’re busted.
Well, our friends are all leaving this 'ol mining town.
We’re busted.
They’re heading up North where there’s work to be found.
And trusted.
Lord, I hate to give up this acre of land.
It’s been in the family since mining began.
But babies get hungry, they don’t understand
We’re busted.
We’re busted.
Yes, we’re busted.
We’re heading up North and we ain’t coming back.
We’re busted.
I called brother John, thought I'd ask for a loan.
We was busted.
Lord, I hate to beg like a dog for a bone
But we’re busted.
Brother John lost his job and his rent’s overdue.
His wife and his kids are all down with the flu.
He said, “I was thinkin' of callin' on you.
I'm busted.”
Lord, my old man’s no thief, but a good man turns bad
When he's busted.
My babies ain’t well and it’s drivin' me mad
Cause we’re busted.
Gonna sell that 'ol Guernsey and give up this shack.
Come on now children, help mama get packed.
We’re headin up North and we ain’t comin' back.
We’re busted.
We’re busted.
Yes, we’re busted.
We’re heading up North and we ain’t coming back.
We’re busted.
envoyé par Bartleby - 5/5/2011 - 12:08
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Scritta da Harlan Howard (1927–2002), prolifico songwriter americano, specializzato nella musica country.
Trovata su Raymond’s Folk Song Page
Questo è il testo originale che racconta della rovina (“We’re busted”, siamo rovinati) di una famiglia, costretta alla fame ed all’emigrazione a causa della chiusura della miniera dove lavora il padre. Howard nel 1963 lo riadattò per Johnny Cash, cambiando ambientazione e sostituendo alle miniere di carbone i campi di cotone.
Cash, e anche Ray Charles, fecero di questa canzone una loro hit.