Lotta Man (In That Little Boy)

His life is that blue bike, ball glove an' fishin' pole,
Tree-house, BB gun and band aid covered knees.
He does good deliverin' papers,
An' cuttin' grass for the neighbours,
Except for Widow Wilson: he cuts hers for free.
His little hands do a lot for a kid his age,
He puts one-tenth of his hard earned money,
In the offering plate each Sunday by his own choice.
There's a lotta man in that little boy.

Weekdays, he tries to sleep late:
Weekends, he's up at daybreak.
Him an' Roy wadin' in Cotton Creek.
That dog was like his brother:
You'd seen one, you'd see the other.
Cut one an' both of them would bleed.
Tires screamed, but that ol' truck couldn't stop.
There's the tree that he buried him under;
He made a cross from scraps of lumber,
An' on it carved: "God Bless ol' Roy."
There's a lotta man in that little boy.

There's a house, down where he goes fishin':
He told his Mom: "Those kids got nothin',
"And I don't need all these toys."
There's a lotta man.
(There's a lotta man. There's a lotta man.)
In that little boy

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Wake up you sleepy head Put on some clothes, shake up your bed Put another log on the fire for me I've made some breakfast and coffee I look out my window what do

Я блукав в пошуках снів Я шукав в темряві слід Жодної не зустрів, щоб назвати своєю Відчай був друг мені Стільки цих самотніх літ, Доки між вечорів не зустрів я тебе Ніби той промінь світла Ти ввійшла

Чого це ти зо мнов рівняєш Того небритого чорта З яким живеш і прожигаєш Свої шальонії літа Відсутність палкого кохання Тебе штовхає до цього Твій чоловік сплошне визнання У нарушеніє всього Куди тебе понесло, люба? Скажи це все сама

Let's go! I kissed the scars on her skin I still think you're beautiful And I don't ever wanna lose my best friend. I screamed out, "God you vulture Bring her back or take me

Дай міцно обійму, моя Катерино Зараз виїжджаю у похід Тай не треба сльоз, коли може я полягу Швиденько повернуся я живим Ой мати не журіться та ви за свого сина Батько не дивіться з-під бровей Гей,