Song | Country Comfort |
Artist | Rod Stewart |
Album | The Very Best Of Rod Stewart |
Lyrics:Bernie Taupin Music:Elton John | |
Soon the pines will be falling everywhere | |
Village children fight each other for a share | |
And the 6:09 goes roaring past the creek | |
Deacon Lee prepares his sermon for next week | |
I saw grandma yesterday down at the store | |
Well she's really going fine for eighty four | |
Well she asked me if sometime I'd fix her barn | |
Poor old girl she needs a hand to run the farm | |
And it's good old country comfort in my bones | |
Just the sweetest sound my ears have ever known | |
Just an old-fashioned feeling fully-grown | |
Country comfort's in a truck that's going home | |
Down at the well they've got a new machine | |
The foreman says it cuts man-power by fifteen | |
Yeah but that ain't natural well so old Clay would say | |
You see he's a horse-drawn man until his dying day | |
Now the old fat goose is flying cross the sticks | |
The hedgehog's done in clay between the bricks | |
And the rocking chair's creaking on the porch | |
Across the valley moves the herdsman with his torch |
Lyrics: Bernie Taupin Music: Elton John | |
Soon the pines will be falling everywhere | |
Village children fight each other for a share | |
And the 6: 09 goes roaring past the creek | |
Deacon Lee prepares his sermon for next week | |
I saw grandma yesterday down at the store | |
Well she' s really going fine for eighty four | |
Well she asked me if sometime I' d fix her barn | |
Poor old girl she needs a hand to run the farm | |
And it' s good old country comfort in my bones | |
Just the sweetest sound my ears have ever known | |
Just an oldfashioned feeling fullygrown | |
Country comfort' s in a truck that' s going home | |
Down at the well they' ve got a new machine | |
The foreman says it cuts manpower by fifteen | |
Yeah but that ain' t natural well so old Clay would say | |
You see he' s a horsedrawn man until his dying day | |
Now the old fat goose is flying cross the sticks | |
The hedgehog' s done in clay between the bricks | |
And the rocking chair' s creaking on the porch | |
Across the valley moves the herdsman with his torch |