文本歌词

Stream of Whiskey - Doc Watson
Just a mile west of the water
Tank on a cold November day
In a cold and lonesome
Boxcar a dyin' hobo lay
His pal sat there before him
With a low and drooping head
Listenin' to the last words
His dyin' buddy said
Goodbye old pardner hobo
I hate to say goodbye
But I hear my train a-comin'
And I know she's a-getting nigh
Gonna tell that old conductor
Just where I want to stop
Where the little stream of whiskey
Comes flowing down the rocks
We rode the rods together
We've rambled all around
In ev'ry kind of weather
We slept out on the ground
Oh pardner don't you miss
That train that always makes the stop
Where the little stream of whiskey
Comes flowing down the rocks
Would you tell my girl in Danville
That she need not to worry at all
I'm a-goin' to that country where
I won't have to work a-tall
No I will not have to work
There nor even change my socks
And the little stream of whiskey
Comes flowing down the rocks
I'm a-goin' to that better
Place where ever'thing is right
Where the handouts grow on bushes
And they sleep out ever' night
Won't have to wash my overhalls
Nor even change my socks
And the little stream of whiskey
Comes timeing down the rocks