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Aquí encontrarás las letras de "Gold Fever". Utiliza los widgets para difundir esta canción y recomiéndala a tus amigos para ayudar "The Wind Whistles" a promover su música!
Letra
Mark the devil be a stone and the rock be surely gold
So I've come to stake my claim along Main Avenue
I believe that this here town was built on hollow ground
And down underneath our feet are treasures to be found
I dig for friendship, I dig for love
I dig for all the things that I've been dreaming of
Every penny that I've earned got me this inch of land
Every rock or spec of dirt has my name in the book
So I'm armed with little more than the clothes upon my back
If the rocks could only talk they'd tell me where to look
I dig for wisdom, I dig for health,
I dig for all the holy dollars in the bank
I'm getting deeper while the world is bought and sold
Still getting deeper always closer to the gold
Just about richer though you find me in the hole
To sum it up I'm close but one can never know
I've been digging for a time and hit no rock of shine
There's talk of me in town from no such friends of mine
They say I dig my grave, that I'll die without a home
But until it takes my life I'll work down to the bone
I dig for country, I dig for man, I dig for a silver pistol planted in my hand
I will strike it solid gold!
Bucket, shovel, pickaxe, washpan tell me where to go.
So I've come to stake my claim along Main Avenue
I believe that this here town was built on hollow ground
And down underneath our feet are treasures to be found
I dig for friendship, I dig for love
I dig for all the things that I've been dreaming of
Every penny that I've earned got me this inch of land
Every rock or spec of dirt has my name in the book
So I'm armed with little more than the clothes upon my back
If the rocks could only talk they'd tell me where to look
I dig for wisdom, I dig for health,
I dig for all the holy dollars in the bank
I'm getting deeper while the world is bought and sold
Still getting deeper always closer to the gold
Just about richer though you find me in the hole
To sum it up I'm close but one can never know
I've been digging for a time and hit no rock of shine
There's talk of me in town from no such friends of mine
They say I dig my grave, that I'll die without a home
But until it takes my life I'll work down to the bone
I dig for country, I dig for man, I dig for a silver pistol planted in my hand
I will strike it solid gold!
Bucket, shovel, pickaxe, washpan tell me where to go.
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| Publicado el | 07 de marzo de 2008 | ||||||||||
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