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Kevin Gordon
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Shotgun Behind the Door
The old man and his mind Were tucked inside The little house on Quinton Street Jesus peered down From a frame on the wall From the dark garden of Gethsemane
Friday night roared Through summer window screens Engines racing, siren sound In the city he sees, behind his eyes Trouble's face is always a shade of brown
I don't know What I don't know In this world anymore Say my prayers Knowing there's A shotgun behind the door
Watching Lawrence Welk From his easy chair 更多更详尽歌词 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔镜歌词网 White gloves, rhinestones glow No Detroit riot No Memphis march No troublemaker gonna stop the show
There in the corner It leaned like a broom Stark against the wall In a parlor where No one would gather Nothing but dust would fall
He said “You gotta watch yourself 'Round here, grandson— Some fool come around, knock you in the head” But that old man died As old men will do In a morphine dream, in a nursing home bed
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