June Carter Cash - Gatsby's Restaurant, аккорды песни для гитары
G
I got tired of New York City, of its sidewalks and its heat
G
So I got myself a great big horse and I rode him down the street
C G
And then I hollered, hi, ho, Silver and, get 'em up, Scout
D
But I suffered aggravation and a great humiliation
D G
So I finally said I'd let the story out
Chorus:
C D C D
You can't ride a big white horse into the front of Gatsby's door
G
You can't call out, hi, ho, Silver as you scoot across the floor
C G
Twenty big Italians had me bent down on my knees
D G
And I said, oh, ouch, help Lord, and Mama mia, please
Well, he broke into a cantor down around ol' Times Square
And my cowboy boots and hat, I left them somewhere way back there
Then he stomped and reared and turned and bucked and took off
to the South
And I slid through Gatsby's Restaurant with his tail stuck
in my mouth.
Chorus
Now, down at Gatsby's Restaurant, there's a picture hanging there
Of a petrified Italian with escargot in his hair
And there's a big, white horse rug lying by the door
And I'm washing dishes in the back and sweepin' up the floor
Chorus
June Carter Cash - Gatsby's Restaurant, аккорды песни для гитары
G
I got tired of New York City, of its sidewalks and its heat
G
So I got myself a great big horse and I rode him down the street
C G
And then I hollered, hi, ho, Silver and, get 'em up, Scout
D
But I suffered aggravation and a great humiliation
D G
So I finally said I'd let the story out
Chorus:
C D C D
You can't ride a big white horse into the front of Gatsby's door
G
You can't call out, hi, ho, Silver as you scoot across the floor
C G
Twenty big Italians had me bent down on my knees
D G
And I said, oh, ouch, help Lord, and Mama mia, please
Well, he broke into a cantor down around ol' Times Square
And my cowboy boots and hat, I left them somewhere way back there
Then he stomped and reared and turned and bucked and took off
to the South
And I slid through Gatsby's Restaurant with his tail stuck
in my mouth.
Chorus
Now, down at Gatsby's Restaurant, there's a picture hanging there
Of a petrified Italian with escargot in his hair
And there's a big, white horse rug lying by the door
And I'm washing dishes in the back and sweepin' up the floor
Chorus