Sheriff's County Line
In a place called Sheriff's County
There's a story goin' round
And it echoes through the swamps of FLA
About the sheriff and his daughter
That he guarded with his life
With a shotgun just to keep those wolves at bay
But she was a fire beyond control
No chains could hold her captive soul
Now the legend grows as days unwind
About passions strong and justice blind
To the reckless deeds that hide behind
The Sheriff's County Line
Now the sheriff had a deputy that he treated like a son
But he warned Calhoun not to see Estelle
'Cause he knew that she was trouble
Had her mama's wild side
And if he slipped he'd make his life a living hell
But flesh is weak and passion's strong
There in the backwoods around dawn
They say it was a murder in the first degree
When the sheriff caught them in the heat
Just one shot killed the deputy
On the Sheriff's County Line
One step closer to midnight
Sittin' there just waitin' to die
The young preacher asks if he's ready
To make his peace and speak his mind
He said Blood is thicker than water
And my temper must've got out of hand
And just before they threw the switch on Old Sparky
He said I'd do it all over, Do it all over again
Now Estelle is softly crying at the foot of her daddy's grave
As the preacher reads the bible verse out loud
You could see her eyes a wanderin'
As he turns another page
And she pulls him ever gently from the crowd
She tells him,
Oh she feels so all alone
And begs him to walk her safely home
And the madness starts all over again
Calhoun's curse is the preacher's end
Cause the forbidden fruit is the sweetest sin
On the Sheriff's County Line
song performed by by 38 Special
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
I Shot The Sheriff
By bob marley
I shot the sheriff, but I did not shoot the deputy.
I shot the sheriff, but I did not shoot the deputy.
All around in my home town
Theyre trying to track me down.
They say they want to bring me in guilty
For the killing of a deputy,
For the life of a deputy.
But I say:
I shot the sheriff, but I swear it was in self-defense.
I shot the sheriff, and they say it is a capital offense.
Sheriff john brown always hated me;
For what I dont know.
Every time that I plant a seed
He said, kill it before it grows.
He said, kill it before it grows.
I say:
I shot the sheriff, but I swear it was in self-defense.
I shot the sheriff, but I swear it was in self-defense.
Freedom came my way one day
And I started out of town.
All of a sudden I see sheriff john brown
Aiming to shoot me down.
So I shot, I shot him down.
I say:
I shot the sheriff, but I did not shoot the deputy.
I shot the sheriff, but I did not shoot the deputy.
Reflexes got the better of me
And what is to be must be.
Every day the bucket goes to the well,
But one day the bottom will drop out,
Yes, one day the bottom will drop out.
But I say:
I shot the sheriff, but I did not shoot the deputy, oh no.
I shot the sheriff, but I did not shoot the deputy, oh no.
song performed by by Eric Clapton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Only A Snippet From History
A young Brooklyn man
'Billy The Kid'
Was sentenced to death
~~ For murder ~~
He escaped the punishment
By murdering again, but
This was in vain.
He was still on the run.
One County Sheriff
'Saw red' it is said!
And using a gun
Shot Billy dead.
The history of Billy
Is detailed with care.
This is only a snippet
I do declare.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Personally I had the opportunity to go on several ride alongs with the LA County Sheriff's Department with some amazing detectives, who were invaluable to me.
quote by Nancy McKeon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kingsport Town
The winter wind is blowin strong
My hands've got no gloves
I wish to myself that I could see
The gal I'm thinkin of
Oh do you remember me babe
I remember you quite well
You caused me to leave old kingsport town
With the high sheriff on my trail
High sheriff on my trail boys
High sheriff on my trail
All because I'd fallen for
A curly headed dark-eyed gal
Who's a-gonna stroke your coal-black hair
An sing to your coloured skin
Who's a-gonna kiss your memphis lips
When I'm not in the wings
When I'm not in the wings babe
When I'm not in the wings
Who's a-gonna kiss your memphis mouth
When I'm not in the wings
Who's a-gonna walk you side-by-side
And tell you everythings alright
Who's a-gonna sing to you all day long
And not just in the night
Who's a-gonna walk you side-by-side
Who's a-gonna be your man
Who's a-gonna look you straight in the eye
And hold your bad-luck hand
Hold your bad-luck hand babe
Hold your bad-luck hand
Who's a-gonna hold your hard-luck hand
And who's a-gonna be your man
The winter wind is blowin strong
My hands've got no gloves
I wish to myself that I could see
The gal I'm thinkin of
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Molina
Chorus:
Moli-i-i-i-na, where you goin to ?
Moli-i-i-i-na, where you goin to ?
Shes daughter to the mayor,
Messin with the sheriff,
Drivin in a blue car,
She dont see no red light.
Chorus
Shes comin in the mornin
Lookin a disaster,
Drivin in the prowl car,
Spent the night in jail.
Chorus
Oh!
Sheriff gonna go far
Drivin to the state house,
If she makes a million,
Papa can retire.
Chorus
Chorus
song performed by by Creedence Clearwater Revival
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Eviction
In early morning twilight, raw and chill,
Damp vapours brooding on the barren hill,
Through miles of mire in steady grave array
Threescore well-arm'd police pursue their way;
Each tall and bearded man a rifle swings,
And under each greatcoat a bayonet clings:
The Sheriff on his sturdy cob astride
Talks with the chief, who marches by their side,
And, creeping on behind them, Paudeen Dhu
Pretends his needful duty much to rue.
Six big-boned labourers, clad in common freize,
Walk in the midst, the Sheriff's staunch allies;
Six crowbar men, from distant county brought, -
Orange, and glorying in their work, 'tis thought,
But wrongly,- churls of Catholics are they,
And merely hired at half a crown a day.
The hamlet clustering on its hill is seen,
A score of petty homesteads, dark and mean;
Poor always, not despairing until now;
Long used, as well as poverty knows how,
With life's oppressive trifles to contend.
This day will bring its history to an end.
Moveless and grim against the cottage walls
Lean a few silent men: but someone calls
Far off; and then a child 'without a stitch'
Runs out of doors, flies back with piercing screech,
And soon from house to house is heard the cry
Of female sorrow, swelling loud and high,
Which makes the men blaspheme between their teeth.
Meanwhile, o'er fence and watery field beneath,
The little army moves through drizzling rain;
A 'Crowbar' leads the Sheriff's nag; the lane
Is enter'd, and their plashing tramp draws near,
One instant, outcry holds its breath to hear
'Halt! ' - at the doors they form in double line,
And ranks of polish'd rifles wetly shine.
The Sheriff's painful duty must be done;
He begs for quiet-and the work's begun.
The strong stand ready; now appear the rest,
Girl, matron, grandsire, baby on the breast,
And Rosy's thin face on a pallet borne;
A motley concourse, feeble and forlorn.
One old man, tears upon his wrinkled cheek,
Stands trembling on a threshold, tries to speak,
But, in defect of any word for this,
Mutely upon the doorpost prints a kiss,
Then passes out for ever. Through the crowd
The children run bewilder'd, wailing loud;
Where needed most, the men combine their aid;
And, last of all, is Oona forth convey'd,
Reclined in her accustom'd strawen chair,
Her aged eyelids closed, her thick white hair
Escaping from her cap; she feels the chill,
Looks round and murmurs, then again is still.
Now bring the remnants of each household fire;
On the wet ground the hissing coals expire;
And Paudeen Dhu, with meekly dismal face,
Receives the full possession of the place.
poem by William Allingham
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Uncle Lemon's Revenge
Most of the county had not a clue
With Uncle Lemon, just what to do?
This rascal most notorious
Over the sheriff always seemed to be victorious.
Selling the best illegal Prohibtion whiskey,
No matter how risky.
Chicago gangsters in the Great Depression
Had even failed to stop his competing 'liquid profession'.
With World War II raging,
Uncle Lemon's vaunted talents with local ladies grew more engaging.
With most younger men away at war,
Uncle Lemon's middle-aged charms took him too far.
His Saturday night dance hall fights
Reached new heights.
Then, the local draft board
Reached a convenient unanimous accord.
Even though Uncle Lemon was too old,
They would draft him into the army to be controlled.
He would be away till the war ended,
Which the local sheriff thought most splendid!
Or, luckily die in an attack,
And never come back!
Uncle Lemon was soon drafted
After this plan was crafted.
But to their dismay,
He was not sent far away.
Placed in charge of a nearby army post motor pool,
He was soon back every weekend with an army car and lots of 'fuel'!
The army tried to discharge him for being too old.
He rejected this plan as his new patriotic life he extolled.
For the rest of the war much of the county he continued to incense -
And all at government expense!
74462
poem by Hubert Wilson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Shot The Sheriff
--chorus--
I shot the sheriff
--chorus--
Verse one:
I had to shoot the sheriff it was justifiable
He mistaked me for somebody who was liable
For all tha many murders l.a and war fields
We keep makin war shields
Streets keep souls
Young brothers loose control
I seem to maintain through this
Watch where ya kick it theyll put you in a twist
And it aint nobody like my down ass hommie
And tha police always tryin to pin some bullshit on me
I keep away from fools
They do crime and it attracts cops
Cops got guns and cuffs
And cells to stuff you in
--chorus--
Verse two:
They tryin to stick with some bullshit that I did not do
You know who
The boys in blue
There they go with they assumpitons
Slaverys over let us have somethin
Why you wanna pull me over?
Cuz Im bumpin?
I just made a new song
My profession is music
Your profession is protection with gats
Then use it on him when hes tryin to take my life away
Im just tryin to live my life today
So I keep away from fools they do crime it attract cops
Cops got guns and cuffs
And cells to stuff you in
--chorus--
Verse three:
I shot the sheriff
I didnt shoot the deputiy I didnt have to
Cuz in this game they always tryin to blast you
And leave it to tha cops to find out who did the murder
They harrase tha wrong clan and arrest tha wrong man
The hommie day-dog got strapped but thats okay
Cuz Im gonna work for life
So he can see another day
A hommies a hommie
A fake is a snake
Straight game from tha pen from tha hommie jake
So I keep away from fools they do crime it attract cops
Cops got guns and cuffs
And cells to stuff you in
song performed by by Warren G
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Uncle Tom's Cabin
Just for the record let's get the story straight
Me and Uncle Tom were fishin' it was gettin'
Pretty late
Out on a cypress limb above the wishin' well
Where they say it got no bottom say it take
You down to Hell
Over in the bushes and off to the right
Come two men talkin' in the pale moonlight
Sheriff John Brady and Deputy Hedge
Haulin' two limp bodies down to the water's edge
I know a secret down at Uncle Tom's Cabin oh yea
I know a secret that I just can't tell
They didn't see me and Tom in the tree
Neither one believin' what the other could see
Tossed in the bodies let 'em sink on down
To the bottom of the well
Where they'd never be found
I know a secret down at Uncle Tom's cabin oh yea
I know a secret that I just can't tell
I know a secret down at Uncle Tom's Cabin
Know a secret that I just can't tell
I know a secret down at Uncle Tom's Cabin
Know who put the bodies in the wishin' well
Soon as they were gone me & Tom got down
Prayin' real hard that we wouldn't make a sound
Runnin' through the woods back to Uncle Tom's shack
Where the full moon shines through the roof tile cracks
Oh my God Tom who are we gonna tell
The sheriff he belongs in a prison cell
Keep your mouth shut that's what we're gonna do
Unless you wanna wind up in the wishin' well too
I know a secret down at Uncle Tom's Cabin
Know a secret that I just can't tell
I know a secret down at Uncle Tom's Cabin
Know who put the bodies, know who put the bodies
in the wishin' well
song performed by by Warrant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Uncle Tom's Cabin
Just for the record let's get the story straight
Me and Uncle Tom were fishin' it was gettin'
Pretty late
Out on a cypress limb above the wishin' well
Where they say it got no bottom say it take
You down to Hell
Over in the bushes and off to the right
Come two men talkin' in the pale moonlight
Sheriff John Brady and Deputy Hedge
Haulin' two limp bodies down to the water's edge
I know a secret down at Uncle Tom's Cabin oh yea
I know a secret that I just can't tell
They didn't see me and Tom in the tree
Neither one believin' what the other could see
Tossed in the bodies let 'em sink on down
To the bottom of the well
Where they'd never be found
I know a secret down at Uncle Tom's cabin oh yea
I know a secret that I just can't tell
I know a secret down at Uncle Tom's Cabin
Know a secret that I just can't tell
I know a secret down at Uncle Tom's Cabin
Know who put the bodies in the wishin' well
Soon as they were gone me & Tom got down
Prayin' real hard that we wouldn't make a sound
Runnin' through the woods back to Uncle Tom's shack
Where the full moon shines through the roof tile cracks
Oh my God Tom who are we gonna tell
The sheriff he belongs in a prison cell
Keep your mouth shut that's what we're gonna do
Unless you wanna wind up in the wishin' well too
I know a secret down at Uncle Tom's Cabin
Know a secret that I just can't tell
I know a secret down at Uncle Tom's Cabin
Know who put the bodies, know who put the bodies
in the wishin' well
song performed by by Warrant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ballad of Jock Dean.
I watched the daylight trickle o'er
the hills behind oor hoose
A sight I'd often seen before
but never through a noose
These shoddy thrown up gallows
where I waited for the crow.
Forget the debt my pal owes,
he'll no help me, this I know.
(Chorus.)
Why have you betrayed yer ain
and left me without hope?
Condemned by my ain twisted wean
tay dance upon the Sheriff's rope.
I swore I would avenge the loss
of all the Laird had stole
The sheriff couldnay gi a toss,
my neck-stretch was his goal.
"A few last words, afore ye go? "
The sarky basturt's shout.
I said nay mer, fur as ye know
he'd had ma tongue ripped out.
(Chorus.)
Why have you betrayed yer ain
and left me without hope?
Condemned by my ain twisted wean
tay dance upon the Sheriff's rope.
The weighted sack tied tay ma feet
drapped sharp before I fell
Ma four weans aw began tay greet
at this, their Da's death knell.
The bag should help tay snap the neck
an quell ma final song
bit no fur me, an instant brek,
the rope was joost too long.
(Chorus.)
Why have you betrayed yer ain
and left me without hope?
Condemned by my ain twisted wean
tay dance upon the Sheriff's rope.
So there I danced the mid-air jig
above the sacred ground
beside the hole they made me dig
my piss sprayed all around.
Twas then I saw my only son
gaze up from my spilt bile
twas then I knew he was the one…
twas written in his smile.
(Chorus.)
Why have you betrayed yer ain
and left me without hope?
Condemned by my ain twisted wean
tay dance upon the Sheriff's rope.
I'll dance forever on his rope.
poem by Hola Mentirosa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Sadie
Went down last night to take a look around
Met little Sadie and I blew her down, went right home, went to bed
Forty-four colt smokes under my head
And I began to think what a deed I'd done
Grabbed my hat and away I run, made a good run, but a little too slow
They overtook me in Jericho
I'm standin' on the corner ringin' the bell
Along came the sheriff from Thomasville
Says "Young man, your name's Brown,
Remember the night you blew Sadie down?"
Oh, yes sir, my name is Lee,
I murdered little Sadie in the first degree
First degree and the second degree
Got any papers won't you read 'em to me.
They took me downtown all dressed in black
Put me on the train and sent me back
Sent me back to the county jail, I had nobody to go for my bail
The judge and the jury they took the stand
The judge hold the paper in his right hand
Forty-one days, forty-one nights,
Forty-one years to wear the ball and stripes
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Texas
Texas.
Texas was for me a magic word, to be a cowboy, herd cattle
and in the evening, ride into town and sort out the baddies.
Mind I wanted to be a sheriff, but first I had to learn, how to
use a lasso. I jumped my ship in Houston, took a bus inland.
As light fell I saw a big ranch the bus stopped and let me off.
I knocked on a door told the rancher I wanted to be a cowboy.
He gave me t. bone steak and let me sleep in the bunk house.
At dawn the sheriff was there to take me back to Houston.
He wore Stetson and let me wear it till we reached the docks
and I had to go onboard, to cook lunch for the hungry crew.
When asked where I had been, I said I had visited my uncle
who has a ranch at a place called Panhandle.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Duel
In Pat Mahoney's booze bazaar the fun was fast and free,
And Ragtime Billy spanked the baby grand;
While caroling a saucy song was Montreal Maree,
With sozzled sourdoughs giving her a hand.
When suddenly erupting in the gay and gilded hall,
A stranger draped himself upon the bar;
As in a voice like bedrock grit he hollered: "Drinks for all,"
And casually lit a long cigar.
He bore a battered stetson on the grizzle of his dome,
And a bunch of inky whiskers on his jaw;
The suddenly I knew the guy - 'twas Black Moran from Nome.
A guinney like greased lightening on the draw.
But no one got his number in that wild and wooly throng,
As they hailed his invitation with eclaw,
And they crowded round the stranger, but I knew something was wrong.
When in there stomped the Sheriff, Red McGraw.
Now Red McGraw from Arkansaw was noted for his spunk;
He had a dozen notches on his gun;
And whether he was sober or whether he was drunk,
He kept the lousy outlaws on the run.
So now he shouts: "Say, boys, there's been a hold-up Hunker Way,
And by this poke I'm throwin' on the bar,
I bet I'll get the bastard braced before another day,
Or send him where a dozen others are."
He banged the bag of gold-dust on the bar for all to see,
When in a lazy drawl the stranger spoke:
"As I'm the man you're lookin' for an feelin' mighty free,
I reckon, Sheriff, I'll jest take yer poke.
It's pleasant meetin' you like this, an' talkin' man to man,
For all the North had heard o' Ref McGraw.
I'm glad to make ye eat yer words, since I am Black Moran,
An' no man livin' beats me on the draw."
And as they boldly bellied, each man's hand was on his rod,
Yet at that dreaded name the Sheriff knew
A single fumbling movement and he'd go to meet his God,
The which he had no great desire to do.
So there they stood like carven wood and hushed was every breath,
We watched them glaring, staring eye to eye;
But neither drew, for either knew a second split meant death -
And so a minute . . . two . . . three three went by.
The sweat pricked on the Sheriff's brow as suddenly he broke
And limp and weak he wilted to the floor;
And then the stranger's hand shot out and grabbed the heavy poke
As jeeringly he backed up to the door.
"Say, folks," he cried, "I'm off downstream; no more of me you'll see,
But let me state the job was pretty raw. . . .
The guy that staged the robbery he thought to pin on me
Was your bastard Sheriff, Red McGraw."
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Little Sadie
Went out last night to take a little round.
I met my little sadie and I brought her down.
I ran right home and I went to bed
With a forty-four smokeless under my head.
I began to think what a deed Id done,
I grabbed my hat and I began to run.
I made a God run but I ran too slow;
They overtook me down in jericho
Standing on a corner ringin my bell,
Up stepped the sheriff from thomasville.
He said young man is you name brown?
Remember the night you blowed little sadie down.
Oh, yes sir, my name is lee.
I murdered little sadie in the first degree.
First degree and second degree,
If youve got any papers will you serve them to me?
Well they took me down town and they dressed me in black.
They put me on a train and they brought me back.
I had no one for to go my bail;
They crammed me back into the county jail.
The judge and the jury they took their stand.
The judge had the papers in his right hand.
Forty-one days, forty-one nights;
Forty-one years to wear the ball and the stripes.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Search Of Little Sadie
Went out last night to take a little round.
I met my little sadie and I brought her down.
I ran right home and I went to bed
With a forty-four smokeless under my head.
I began to think what a deed Id done.
I grabbed my hat and I began to run.
I made a God run but I ran too slow;
They overtook me down in jericho
Standing on a corner a ringin my bell,
Up stepped the sheriff from thomasville.
He said young man is you name brown?
Remember you blowed sadie down.
Oh yes sir, my name is lee.
I murdered little sadie in the first degree.
First degree and second degree.
If youve got any papers will you serve them to me?
Well they took me down town and they dressed me in black,
They put me on a train and they sent me back.
I had no one to go my bail;
They crammed me back into the county jail.
Oh, yes they did.
The judge and the jury they took their stand.
The judge had the papers in his right hand.
Forty-one days, forty-one nights;
Forty-one years to wear the ball and the stripes;
Oh, no!
Went out last night to take a little round.
I met little sadie and I blowed her down.
I ran right home and I went to bed,
A forty-four smokeless under my head.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I Was The Priest
Part of the hammond demos.
(recorded by allan clarke on solo album in 1975) written by bruce
Well theres a light on yonder mountain
And its calling me to shine
Theres a girl over by the water fountain
And shes asking to be mine
And aint that jesus, hes standing in the doorway
With a buckskin jacket, boots and spurs, so really fine
He says we need you up in dodge city, son
cause theres oh so many bad boys (just too many outlaw)
Tryin to work the same line
Well now if jesus was the sheriff and I were the priest
If my lady was an heiress and my mama was a thief
Oh and papa rode shotgun for the fargo line
Theres still too many outlaws
Tryin to work the same line
Now old sweet virgin mary
She runs the holy grail saloon
Where for a nickel theyll give you whisky
And the personally blessed balloon
And the holy ghost, hes the host with the most
He runs the burlesque show
Where they let you in for free
But oh hit you for your soul when you go
And mary serves mass on sunday
And then she sells her body on monday
To the bootlegger who will pay the highest price
But he dont know he got stuck with a loser
Marys a stone junkie, whats more shes a boozer
And shes only been made once or twice
By some kind of magic
Well things aint been the same in heaven
Ever since big bad bobby came to town
Hes been known to down eleven
And then ask for another round
And me I got scabs on my knees
From kneeling way too long
I gotta take a stand, be the man, up where you belong
And forget about the old friends and the old times
Because theres just too many new boys
Tryin to work the same line
Well now if jesus was the sheriff and I were the priest
If my lady was an heiress and my mama was a thief
Oh and papa rode shotgun for the fargo line
Theres still too many bad boys
Tryin to work the same line
Now theres a light on yonder mountain
And its calling me to shine
Theres a girl by the water fountain
And shes asking to be mine
And jesus, hes standing in the doorway
With his six-guns drawn, and ready to fan
He says we need you son, up in dodge city
But Im already overdue in cheyenne
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Smooth Rider
Last night, no way
I was gonna be left hungry
And then your daddy
caught me sneakin' out your bed
It's just a game I play
It's just I roll that way
Don't think sweet baby,
I'm messin' with your head
I'm a smooth rider, baby
You know I just keep moving on
don't know why I like to carry on
The way I do
It's just that I'm in love with you
Oh,
If you see me out there runnin'
And you hear the sheriff's comin'
Your daddy's crazy
With that gun in his hand
If you know they're comin' for me
And you know they're runnin' for me
You know my love
won't let them keep me away
I'm a smooth rider, baby
You know I just keep moving on
I don't know why i like to carry on
The way I do
It's just that I'm in love with you
Oh,
If you see me out there runnin'
And you hear the sheriff's comin'
Your daddy's crazy
with that gun in his hand
If you know they're comin' for me
And you know they're runnin' for me
You know my love
won't let them keep me away
I'm a smooth rider, baby
song performed by by Dave Matthews Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Angel
Its not I who sought the novice its the novice who sought me cook went blind and drank too much and fed his guest on angeldust where did the pain start when did the symptoms begin where did the
Start what have the symptoms been? if my heads been through a windscreen why are all the eyeballs green? take me round the roundabout slow down, dont stop bail out-pull out it was not I who bi
Sheriff it was the sheriff who bit me by my lambchops, buttercup what a crucifixion what a crucifixion mean I was bitten by a horse now Im moving for divorce it took more than one man to change
Ame to shanghai lily whats a cluckin chicken whats a cluckin chicken need wheres the cluckin chicken wheres the cluckin chicken been
song performed by by Happy Mondays
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bars Of The County Jail
Gather you all and listen here
Ill tell you a tale if you lend me an ear
I rode a horse through many a town
But the devil rode me down to the ground
I was to marry a very rich girl
I loved her as only I can
But the father was shot and his gold was stoled
And now Im the devils man, na na na
And now I sing a tail of woe
Through the bars of the county jail
I walked into the room one night
I found her mother and gun
Well the man was dead and I kneeled and cried
The sheriff ran in and said Im holding you, son
Through the day I sing and play
For time is on my side
But when the moon and stars come out
I lay me down and cry
For the saviour mar I lied
Now I will not have a ride
Beside the window the scaffold was made
On the morrow I will hang
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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