14 lyrics for "I'm a poor boy,"
They call the Rising Sun And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy In the house of the rising sun There is a house in Sin City And God, I know I'm one My mother was a tailor She sewed my new blue jeans My father was a gamblin' man Down in Sin City
PlayCan you believe me when I say, there's nothing I like better, Than just to sit here and talk with you. Although I'll rant and I'll rave about one thing and another The beauty of it is, hope you'll agree, though I'm a poor boy, I can still be happy, As
PlayWhen this war is over It will be a better day But it won't bring back Those poor boys in their graves Ain't no sense in no action Killin' people all the time When it happens on the street We call that a crime Man, he can get along
PlayHey, hey what can I say I grew up in the heartland USA I sing it loud and proud and I make a lotta noise I'm an all-American middle class white boy We wasn't rich but we wasn't poor Lived on a cul-de-sac 'til my parents divorced I drove a hand-me-down
PlayBring a nickel; tap your feet. Willy and the Poorboys are playin' Down on the corner, out in the street Down on the corner, out in the street, Early in the evenin' just about supper time, Over by the courthouse they're starting to unwind. Four kids on
PlayBring a nickel; tap your feet. Willy and the Poorboys are playin' Down on the corner, out in the street Down on the corner, out in the street, Early in the evenin' just about supper time, Over by the courthouse they're starting to unwind. Four kids on
PlayIs this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide No escape from reality Open your eyes Look up to the skies and see I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy Because I'm easy come, easy go A little high, little low
PlayDoes it hurt Every time you walk in a room Does it feel like work Keepin' them country boys off of you Tell me, tell me Are you tired of runnin' Through my mind's Poor boy neighborhood All, tell me does it hurt
PlayThey call the Rising Sun And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy And God I know I'm one There is a house in New Orleans My mother was a tailor Sewed my new blue jeans My father was a gamblin' man Down in New Orleans Now the only thing a gambler needs
PlayThey call the Rising Sun And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy And God I know I'm one There is a house in New Orleans My mother was a tailor Sewed my new blue jeans My father was a gamblin' man Down in New Orleans Now the only thing a gambler needs
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