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127 Rose Avenue
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Hank Williams, Jr.
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1
Somewhere in the cradle of the deep south
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Magnolias sway in the breeze
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To the lonesome sound of a Red Boned Hound;
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Howlin' at the moon and the trees.
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There's a sad eyed boy, with his guitar;
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Cuttin' his teeth on the blues.
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Wishin' on a falling star, at 127 Rose Avenue
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The distant moan of a midnight train,
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Comes blowin' through the night.
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He dips his pen in tears and pain;
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And he begins to write.
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Bout a whippoorwill too blue to fly,
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And the Indian he once knew.
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Bout lost highways, and purple skies;
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At 127 Rose Avenue.
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[Chorus]
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Caretaker said as he shook his head,
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"Son to you believe in Ghosts?
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For a five dollar bill you can feel the chill
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That he felt long ago."
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So a I bought me a ticket at the front door;
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Guess who was there inside.
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I felt his presence through the whole tour,
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God I swear, he was alive.
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I saw the train, I felt the pain,
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I heard him moanin' the blues.
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Twenty-nine years of memories;
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At 127 Rose Avenue.
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[Chorus]
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Another side eyed boy with his guitar,
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Cuttin' his teeth on the blues.
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Here I am wishin' on a falling star,
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At 127 Rose Avenue
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[Outtake:]
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It ain't in Nashville...
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It's not in Montgomery...
ELEVEN ROSES by HANK WILLIAMS JR.
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