|
John-Taupin |
|
I'll catch the tramline in the morning |
|
With your leave Van Bushell said |
|
He had further heard the cock crow |
|
As he stumbled out the shed |
|
Then blind Joseph came towards him |
|
With a shotgun in his arms |
|
He said you'll pay me twenty dollars |
|
Before you leave my farm |
|
Van Bushell saw the hook |
|
Which replaced Joseph's hand |
|
He said now calm you down my brother |
|
Let's discuss this man to man |
|
It's no good you getting angry |
|
We must try to act our age |
|
You're pursuing your convictions |
|
Like some hermit in a cage |
|
You're the son of your father |
|
Try a little bit harder |
|
Do for me as he would do for you |
|
With blood and water bricks and mortar |
|
He built for you a home |
|
You're the son of your father |
|
So treat me as your own |
|
Well slowly Joseph well he lowered the rifle |
|
And he emptied out the shells |
|
Van Bushell he came towards him |
|
He shook his arm and wished him well |
|
He said now hey blind man that is fine |
|
But I sure can't waste my time |
|
So move aside and let me go my way |
|
I've got a train to ride |
|
Well Joseph turned around |
|
His grin was now a frown |
|
He said let me just refresh your mind |
|
Your manners boy seem hard to find |
|
You're the son of your father |
|
Try a little bit harder |
|
Do for me as he would do for you |
|
With blood and water bricks and mortar |
|
He built for you a home |
|
You're the son of your father |
|
So treat me as your own |
|
You're the son of your father |
|
So treat me as your own |
|
You're the son of your father |
|
So treat me as your own |
