Copperhead (1992) - Brown's Gold | Текст песни

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• Copperhead (1992)
• Brown's Gold

Well he loved his share of women
Drank his share of wine
Done his share of killin’ and He pulled his share of time Turned seventeen a soldier
When he buried his first gold
A no good deserter from a hard fought Civil War. Yeah, Ohh

Well he busted out of prison
Made his way back home
That’s where the outlaws and Jon Brown rode
Held the reigns of Satan
With a rifle in his hand
Killed his own people
Lord, they didn’t understand

Hold on south wind
They gonna burn Atlanta down
Stand strong Dixie, you better hold your ground
Tales of old, of outlaws and gold
To gain a fortune they sell their souls.

Now late high summer evenings
Well the old people claim
Ghost of Confederate soldiers

Ride hard upon their way
A flicker from their lanterns,
A ghostly cry they make
From the hills of Brown Mountain
To the shores of James lake
And later on by morning
By the pale and dim moonlight
You can see them as they nde across the mountainside
In search for the treasure
The lost forgotten gold
And all the souls they martyred, raped, scared and stole.

Hold on south wind
They gonna bum Atlanta down
Stand strong Dixie, you better hold your ground
Tales of old, of outlaws and gold
To gain a fortune they sell their souls

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