16 Biggest Hits, Vol 2 lyrics

A young cowboy named Billy Joe grew restless on the farm
A boy filled with wonderlust who really meant no harm
He changed his clothes and shined his boots
And combed his dark hair down
And his mother cried as he walked out

Chorus
Don't take your guns to town son
Leave your guns at home Bill
Don't take your guns to town

He laughed and kissed his mom
And said your Billy Joe's a man

On A Monday I Was Ar-rested (Uh Huh)
On A Tuesday They Locked Me In The Jail (Oh Boy)
On A Wednesday My Trial Was At-tested
On A Thursday They Said Guilty And The Judge's Gavel Fell

I Got Stripes --- Stripes Around My Shoulders
I Got Chains --- Chains Around My Feet
I Got Stripes --- Stripes Around My Shoulders
And Them Chains --- Them Chains They're About To Drag Me Down

In a little cabaret in a South Texas border town,
Sat a boy and his guitar, and the people came from all around.
And all the girls from there to Austin,
Were slippin' away from home and puttin' jewelery in hock.
To take the trip, to go and listen,
To the little dark-haired boy who played the Tennessee flat top box.

And he would play: (Instrumental.)

My bills are all due and the babies need shoes,

But I'm Busted

Cotton's gone down to a quarter a pound

And I'm Busted

I got a cow that's gone dry

And a hen that won't lay

A big stack of bills

Getting bigger each day

The county's gonna haul my belongings away,

But I'm Busted

So I called on my brother to ask for a loan

'Cause I was Busted

The old home town looks the same,

As I step down from the train,

And there to meet me is my mama and my papa.

Down the road I look, and there comes Mary,
Hair of gold and lips like cherries.

It's good to touch the green, green grass of home.

The old house is still standing,

Though the paint is cracked and dry,

And there's the old oak tree that I used to play on.

Look a-yonder comin'

Comin' down that railroad track

Hey, look a-yonder comin'

Comin' down that railroad track
It's the Orange Blossom Special

Bringin' my baby back

Well, I'm going down to Florida

And get some sand in my shoes

Or maybe Californy

And get some sand in my shoes

I'll ride that Orange Blossom Special

And lose these New York blues

There once was a musical troupe

A pickin' singin' folk group

They sang the mountain ballads

And the folk songs of our land

They were long on musical ability

Folks thought they would go far

But political incompatibility led to their downfall

Well, the one on the right was on the left

And the one in the middle was on the right

And the one on the left was in the middle

Six foot six he stood on the ground, he weighted 235 pounds
But I saw that giant of a man brought down to his knees by love
He was the kind of man that would gamble on luck
Look you in the eye and never back up
But I saw him crying like a little whipped pup because of love

You can't see it with your eyes, hold it in your hands
But like the wind
that covers our land

I dedicate this song to the workin' man

For ever' man that puts in a hard

Eight or ten hours a day of work and toil and sweat

Always got somebody lookin' down his neck

Tryin' to get more out of 'im

Than he really ought to have to put in.

After twenty-nine long years of workin'

In this shop with Oney standin' over me ...

Today when that old whistle blows

I was a highwayman. Along the coach roads I did ride

With sword and pistol by my side

Many a young maid lost her baubles to my trade

Many a soldier shed his lifeblood on my blade
The bastards hung me in the spring of twenty-five

But I am still alive.

I was a sailor. I was born upon the tide

And with the sea I did abide.

I sailed a schooner round the Horn to Mexico