Lirik Lagu Audobon - C.W. McCall
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Well, I was born in a town called AudubonSouthwest Iowa, right where it oughta beenTwenty-three houses, fourteen saloons,And a feed mill in nineteen-thirty.Had a neon sign, said "Squealer Feeds"And the bus came through when they felt the needAnd they stopped at a place there in town called The Old Home Cafe
Now my daddy was a music lovin' manHe stood six-foot-seven, had big ol' handsHe'd lost two fingers in a chainsaw but he could still play the violinAnd Mom played piana, just the keys in the middleAnd Dad played a storm on his three-fingered fiddle'Cause that's all there was to do back there folks, except ta go downtown and watch haircuts
So I was raised on Dust Bowl tunes, you seeHad a six-tube radio an' no TVIt was so dog-goned hot I had to wet the bed in the summer just to keep cool.Yeah, many's a night I'd lay awakeA-waitin' for a distant station breakJust a-settin' and a-wettin' an' a-lettin' that radio fry.
Well, I listened to Nashville and Tulsa and DallasAnd Oklahoma City gave my ear a callusAnd I'll never forget them announcers at three A.M.They'd come on an' say "Friends, there's many a soul who needs us"So send them letters an' cards ta Jesus"That's J-E-S-U-S friends, in care a' Del Rio, Texas."
But the place I remember, on the edge a' townWas the place where you really got the hard-core soundYeah, a place where the truckers used ta stop on their way to Dees MoinsThere was signs all over them windowsillsLike "If the Devil don't get ya, then Roosevelt will"And "The bank don't sell no beer, and we don't cash no checks."
Now them truckers never talked about nothin' but haulin'And the four-letter words was really appallin'They thought them home-town gals was nothin' but toys for their amusement.Rode Chevys and Macks and big ol' stacksThey's alw
Now my daddy was a music lovin' manHe stood six-foot-seven, had big ol' handsHe'd lost two fingers in a chainsaw but he could still play the violinAnd Mom played piana, just the keys in the middleAnd Dad played a storm on his three-fingered fiddle'Cause that's all there was to do back there folks, except ta go downtown and watch haircuts
So I was raised on Dust Bowl tunes, you seeHad a six-tube radio an' no TVIt was so dog-goned hot I had to wet the bed in the summer just to keep cool.Yeah, many's a night I'd lay awakeA-waitin' for a distant station breakJust a-settin' and a-wettin' an' a-lettin' that radio fry.
Well, I listened to Nashville and Tulsa and DallasAnd Oklahoma City gave my ear a callusAnd I'll never forget them announcers at three A.M.They'd come on an' say "Friends, there's many a soul who needs us"So send them letters an' cards ta Jesus"That's J-E-S-U-S friends, in care a' Del Rio, Texas."
But the place I remember, on the edge a' townWas the place where you really got the hard-core soundYeah, a place where the truckers used ta stop on their way to Dees MoinsThere was signs all over them windowsillsLike "If the Devil don't get ya, then Roosevelt will"And "The bank don't sell no beer, and we don't cash no checks."
Now them truckers never talked about nothin' but haulin'And the four-letter words was really appallin'They thought them home-town gals was nothin' but toys for their amusement.Rode Chevys and Macks and big ol' stacksThey's alw
