6 acessos
I'm the Lone Star Ranger,
Riding across Lonesome Plains,
Somehow I lost my way
On a strange Anniversary Day,
And you were the last to be told,
That I'd kinda lost my control,
Now I know why you treat me so cold,
'Cos you think your last hope
Has been sold.
Won't you please
Do the factory mean a favour,
You can't make him believe
In a poor man's saviour.
So you're the poor man's saviour,
Down by the factory gate,
Telling the factory man,
That you've got plenty to say,
But he'll be the last to be told
That you felt you were getting too old,
To be playing political roles,
With the tedious factory folk.