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Ballad of Henry Holloway

๐Ÿ‘ค Bogle, Eric โ€ข ๐ŸŽผ Scraps of Paper โ€ข โฑ๏ธ 3:48
๐ŸŽต 1742 characters
โฑ๏ธ 3:48 duration
๐Ÿ†” ID: 15926883

๐Ÿ“œ Lyrics

[D)Saturday night & the bar-room is howlin' with
(A)young weekend cowboys all (D)struttin' and prowlin'
(D)Drinkin' straight bourbon and tryin' not to shiver as it
(A)burns down their throat and plays (D)hell with their liver
On a (D)small stage in the bar's farthest
(A)corner sits Henry Holloway playin' his (D)guitar
(D)Under the spotlight,
sweat on his face (G)glistenin'.
(D)singin' his heart out and (A)nobody's (D)listenin'

(G)Fire in the belly, (D)fire in the soul;
(A)ambition's a fire that's (D)hard to control.
(G)Burnin' with bright dreams of (D)money & fame,
(A)young Henry Holloway's (G)lost in the (D)flame.

Evylin sits by the stage,
she's the only one clappin' with eyes
brightly shinin', feet in time tappin'
Face full of love as she watches her man in
his shirt of blue rhinestones she sewed on by hand
Sweet red lips movin' as she sings
along joinin' with Henry in his every song
Although she's heard them about one million
times Love is tone-deaf as well as stone blind

Now the noise in the bar's like a volcano
explodin' but up on the stage young Henry's is floatin'
Eyes closed and driftin' through his
favourite dream, he sings of places he's never seen
Like Nashville and Memphis, New York & L.A.
You can bet even money he'll get there some day
But if he don't,
he just might not care 'cause when
he sings his songs, he's already there

Saturday night's turned into Sunday mornin',
the bar-room is empty, the bartender's yawnin'
Home go the cowboys with their jeans and high boots;
come Monday they'll put on their ties and dark suits
Back to the motel go Henry and Evylin she
falls asleep with her arms wrapped around him
and dreams of motel rooms & cheap crowded
bars Henry lies wide awake and dreams of the stars

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