Song | Old Doc Brown |
Artist | Johnny Cash |
Album | Original Album Classics |
作词 : Foley | |
He was just an old country doctor | |
In a little country town | |
Fame and fortune had passed him by | |
Though we never saw him frown | |
As day by day in his kindly way | |
He'd serve us one and all | |
Many a patient forgot to pay | |
Although Doc's fees were small | |
Though he needed his dimes and there were | |
Times that he'd receive a fee | |
He'd pass it onto some poor soul | |
That needed it worse than he | |
He had to sell his furniture | |
Couldn't pay his office rent | |
So to a dusty room over a livery stable | |
Doc Brown and his satchel went | |
And on the hitchin' post at the kerb below | |
To advertise his wares | |
He nailed a little sign that read"Doc Brown has moved upstairs" | |
And one day he didn't answer | |
When they knocked upon his door | |
Old Doc Brown was layin' down | |
But his soul was no more | |
They found him there in that old black suit | |
On his face was a smile of content | |
But all the money they could find on him | |
Was a quarter and a copper cent | |
So they opened up his ledger | |
And what they saw gave their hearts a pull | |
Beside each debtor's name old | |
DocHad write these words, "Paid in full" | |
Old Doc should had | |
A funeral fine enough for a king | |
It's a ghastly joke our town was broke | |
And no one could give a thing' | |
Cept Jones an undertaker | |
He did mighty well | |
Donated an old iron casket | |
He had never been able to sell | |
And the funeral procession | |
It wasn't much for grace and pomp and the style | |
But those wagon loads of mourners | |
They stretched out for more than a mile | |
We wanted to give him a monument | |
We kinda figured we owed him one' | |
Cause he made our town a better place | |
For all the good he'd done | |
We pulled up that old hitchin' post | |
Where Doc had nailed a sign | |
We'd painted it white and to all of us | |
It certainly did look fine | |
Now the rains and the snows | |
Have washed away our white trimmin's of paint | |
There ain't nothin' left but | |
Doc's own sign | |
And that's gettin' pretty faint | |
But you can still see that old hitchin' post | |
As if in answer to our prayers | |
Mutually tellin' the whole wide world | |
Doc Brown has moved upstairs |
zuò cí : Foley | |
He was just an old country doctor | |
In a little country town | |
Fame and fortune had passed him by | |
Though we never saw him frown | |
As day by day in his kindly way | |
He' d serve us one and all | |
Many a patient forgot to pay | |
Although Doc' s fees were small | |
Though he needed his dimes and there were | |
Times that he' d receive a fee | |
He' d pass it onto some poor soul | |
That needed it worse than he | |
He had to sell his furniture | |
Couldn' t pay his office rent | |
So to a dusty room over a livery stable | |
Doc Brown and his satchel went | |
And on the hitchin' post at the kerb below | |
To advertise his wares | |
He nailed a little sign that read" Doc Brown has moved upstairs" | |
And one day he didn' t answer | |
When they knocked upon his door | |
Old Doc Brown was layin' down | |
But his soul was no more | |
They found him there in that old black suit | |
On his face was a smile of content | |
But all the money they could find on him | |
Was a quarter and a copper cent | |
So they opened up his ledger | |
And what they saw gave their hearts a pull | |
Beside each debtor' s name old | |
DocHad write these words, " Paid in full" | |
Old Doc should had | |
A funeral fine enough for a king | |
It' s a ghastly joke our town was broke | |
And no one could give a thing' | |
Cept Jones an undertaker | |
He did mighty well | |
Donated an old iron casket | |
He had never been able to sell | |
And the funeral procession | |
It wasn' t much for grace and pomp and the style | |
But those wagon loads of mourners | |
They stretched out for more than a mile | |
We wanted to give him a monument | |
We kinda figured we owed him one' | |
Cause he made our town a better place | |
For all the good he' d done | |
We pulled up that old hitchin' post | |
Where Doc had nailed a sign | |
We' d painted it white and to all of us | |
It certainly did look fine | |
Now the rains and the snows | |
Have washed away our white trimmin' s of paint | |
There ain' t nothin' left but | |
Doc' s own sign | |
And that' s gettin' pretty faint | |
But you can still see that old hitchin' post | |
As if in answer to our prayers | |
Mutually tellin' the whole wide world | |
Doc Brown has moved upstairs |