Hank Williams Jr.
180426272.gif

Somewhere in the cradle of the deep south

Magnolias sway in the breeze

To the lonesome sound of a redbone hound

Howlin' at the moon and the trees

There's a sad eyed boy with his guitar

Cuttin' his teeth on the blues

Wishin' on a fallin' star at 127, Rose Avenue

The distant moan of a midnight train

Comes blowin' through the night

He dips his pen in tears and pain and he begins to write

'Bout a whippoorwill too blue to fly

And the Indian he once knew

'Bout the lost highways and purple skies at 127, Rose Avenue

Caretaker said as he shook his head

Son, do you believe in ghosts?

For a five dollar bill you can feel the chill

That he felt long ago

So I bought me a ticket at the front door

Guess who was there inside

I felt his presence through the whole tour

God, I swear he was alive

I saw the train, I felt the pain

I heard him moanin' the blues

Twenty nine years of memories at 127, Rose Avenue

Caretaker said as he shook his head

Son, do you believe in ghosts?

For a five dollar bill you can feel the chill

He felt long ago

Another sad eyed boy with his guitar

Cuttin' his teeth on the blues

Here I am wishin' on a fallin' star at 127, Rose Avenue

It ain't in Nashville

It's not in Montgomery

127, Rose Avenue


Mirror lyrics:

127, Rose Avenue

It's not in Montgomery

It ain't in Nashville

Here I am wishin' on a fallin' star at 127, Rose Avenue

Cuttin' his teeth on the blues

Another sad eyed boy with his guitar

He felt long ago

For a five dollar bill you can feel the chill

Son, do you believe in ghosts?

Caretaker said as he shook his head

Twenty nine years of memories at 127, Rose Avenue

I heard him moanin' the blues

I saw the train, I felt the pain

God, I swear he was alive

I felt his presence through the whole tour

Guess who was there inside

So I bought me a ticket at the front door

That he felt long ago

For a five dollar bill you can feel the chill

Son, do you believe in ghosts?

Caretaker said as he shook his head

'Bout the lost highways and purple skies at 127, Rose Avenue

And the Indian he once knew

'Bout a whippoorwill too blue to fly

He dips his pen in tears and pain and he begins to write

Comes blowin' through the night

The distant moan of a midnight train

Wishin' on a fallin' star at 127, Rose Avenue

Cuttin' his teeth on the blues

There's a sad eyed boy with his guitar

Howlin' at the moon and the trees

To the lonesome sound of a redbone hound

Magnolias sway in the breeze

Somewhere in the cradle of the deep south


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