Colter Wall, The Dead South - Johnny Boy's Bones lyrics
[Colter Wall, The Dead South - Johnny Boy's Bones lyrics]
Well I wish I was in the land of cotton
Old times they are not forgotten
Look away, look away, look away dixieland
Oh, musket and cannon have torn his gray coat
Don't he look fine and handsome
Don't he look at his most
For he fought in the foxholes and
At this I will boast
Don't they look fine and handsome
My poor Johnny Boy's Bones
Well, who will bring back
My Johnny Boy's Bones
To lay beneath the trees
Of his Tennessee home
A box, a box made of sturdy white oak
With his arms folded up and
His blue eyes all closed
Well he died for his country
And he died for his kin
And he died killing men a most honorable sin
But them mean boys in blue
They done turned him in
When they laid him low
With a laugh and a grin
Oh, who will bring back my Johnny Boy's Bones
To lay 'neath the trees of our Tennessee home
A box, a box made of sturdy white oak
With his arms folded up and
His blue eyes all closed
Oh, who will bring back my Johnny Boy's Bones
To lay 'neath the trees of our Tennessee home
A box, a box made of sturdy white oak
With his arms folded up and
His blue eyes all closed
Oh, who will bring back my Johnny Boy's Bones
To lay 'neath the trees of our Tennessee home
A box, a box made from sturdy white oak
With his arms folded up and
His blue eyes all closed
Old times they are not forgotten
Look away, look away, look away dixieland
Oh, musket and cannon have torn his gray coat
Don't he look fine and handsome
Don't he look at his most
For he fought in the foxholes and
At this I will boast
Don't they look fine and handsome
My poor Johnny Boy's Bones
Well, who will bring back
My Johnny Boy's Bones
To lay beneath the trees
Of his Tennessee home
A box, a box made of sturdy white oak
With his arms folded up and
His blue eyes all closed
Well he died for his country
And he died for his kin
And he died killing men a most honorable sin
But them mean boys in blue
They done turned him in
When they laid him low
With a laugh and a grin
Oh, who will bring back my Johnny Boy's Bones
To lay 'neath the trees of our Tennessee home
A box, a box made of sturdy white oak
With his arms folded up and
His blue eyes all closed
Oh, who will bring back my Johnny Boy's Bones
To lay 'neath the trees of our Tennessee home
A box, a box made of sturdy white oak
With his arms folded up and
His blue eyes all closed
Oh, who will bring back my Johnny Boy's Bones
To lay 'neath the trees of our Tennessee home
A box, a box made from sturdy white oak
With his arms folded up and
His blue eyes all closed