| Young Boy / Young Girl | |
| Author: | Ryan Adams take on Rev. Robert Wilkins / Rolling Stones standard |
| See below | |
|
Official Appearance: |
N/A |
|
Unofficial Appearance: |
N/A |
|
Played Live: |
11/14/00 |
| 11/15/00 | |
| 11/20/00 | |
| Notes: | "I think this is a cover, but I don't know. I'm not really sure." Ryan Adams, |
| 11/15/00. | |
| Lyrics: | There’s a young boy, done him bad believe he'll go back home |
| Believe he'll go back home, yeah, so he can get along | |
| She's a young girl, money gone, didn't like a law | |
| Didn't like the law, find some place where she can get along | |
| Yeah then she got along | |
| Young boy, money gone, believe he went back home | |
| Believe he went back home, yeah, so he can get along | |
| She's a young girl, done her bad, didn't like the law | |
| They didn't like the law, yeah, find some place where he can get along | |
| Yeah went and got along | |
| Yeah then he got a along | |
| Young boy, money bad, believe he went back home, | |
| Believe he went back home, yeah, so he could get along | |
| She's a young girl, you done her bad, didn't like the law | |
| Didn't like the law, yeah, he found some place where he could get along | |
| Yeah he went and got along | |
| Yeah and then he got along | |
| Lyrics to Reverend Robert Wilkins' "That's No Way To Get Along" | |
| I'm goin' home, friends, sit down
and tell my, my mama Friends, sit down and tell my mama I'm goin' home, sit down and tell my mama I'm goin' home, sit down and tell my mama That that's no way to get along These low-down women, mama, they treated your, ahw, poor son wrong Mama, treated me wrong These low-down women, mama, treated your poor son wrong These low-down women, mama, treated your poor son wrong And that's no way for him to get along They treated me like my poor heart was made of a rock or stone Mama, made of a rock or stone Treated me like my poor heart was made of a rock or stone Treated me like my poor heart was made of a rock or stone And that's no way for me to get along You know, that was enough, mama, to make your son wished he's dead and gone Mama, wished I's dead and gone That is enough to make your son, mama, wished he's dead and gone That is enough to make your son, mama, wished he's dead and gone 'Cause that's no way for him to get along I stood on the roadside, I cried alone, all by myself I cried alone by myself I stood on the roadside and cried alone by myself I stood on the roadside and cried alone by myself Cryin', "That's no way for me to get along" I's wantin' some train to come along and take me away from here Friends, take me away from here Some train to come along and take me away from here Some train to come along and take me away from here And that's no way for me to get along |
|
| Lyrics to The Rolling Stones' "Prodigal Son" | |
| Well a poor boy took his father's
bread and started down the road Started down the road Took all he had and started down the road Went out of his world, where God only knows And that'll be the way to get along Well poor boy spent all he had, famine swept the land Well, man said "I'll give you a job for to feed my swine Said "I believe I'll ride, believe I'll go back home Well, father said see my son coming home to me Oh poor boy stood there, hung his head and cried Well father said "eldest son, kill the fatted calf, |
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