Текст, перевод и аккорды “Road Angel”
- Tom johnston / john hartman Tiran porter / michael hossack I was ridin down that highway Silver harley by my side When I thought I saw my lady She was headed for the berkely hill Pistol on her hip in case she needed a thrill I dont believe it, dont believe a word I dont believe it, dont believe a word I said, come on with me, baby Dont you want to ride with me She put her hand into her bag, now Pulled out a half pint of red eye sauce Sneakin round the corner, drinkin whiskey from a jar I dont believe it, dont believe a word I dont believe it, dont believe a word
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