Chain Gang - Written by - Sam Cooke He Don't Love You - Written by - J. Butler, C. Mayfield & C. Carter Searchin' - Written by - Jerry Leiber & Mike Stoller
't pull the mask off that old Lone Ranger And you don't mess around with Jim" Well, outta South Alabama came a country boy He said, "I'm lookin' for a man named Jim
Well, out of Southern Illinois Come a down home country boy He gonna make it in the city Playin' guitar in the studio Oh well, he hadn't been there an
Operator, well, could you help me place this call? See, the number on the matchbook is old and faded She's living in L. A. with my best old ex-friend
Ol' man river, that ol' man river He must know something but he don't say nothing That ol' man river, he just keeps rollin' along He don't plant 'taters
Perhaps, I'll never show this world all I could be I just can't sing to any man the song he wants to hear And I know that some won't like me Others try
We been runnin' away from Somethin' we both know We've long run out of things to say And I think I better go So don't be gettin' excited Oh, when you
There's ice and snow on the northern roads And the Jersey Pike is closed Have to go and do some drivin' tonight They say I'd be a fool if I would ride
Nobody loves a fat girl But, oh, how a fat girl can love Nobody seems to want me I'm just a truck upon the highway of love I'm all alone inside of my
When I was a boy in the days of the train I'd sit by the tracks on a long summer day And I'd wave at the brakesman, and he'd wave back at me While the
You big fat woman get your fat leg off of me You big fat woman get your fat leg off of me You feel so good Scare the hell out of me You got a great big
Smoke another cigarette Have another drink or two Sit by the telephone 'til morning She never tells me where she's goin' But I think it's mighty plain
She was just a country girl Didn't have those New York City ways When she hopped a bus in Ohio Headin' for the crowded streets where no one says a word
Sun come up in the morning Blues 'round my head I've got a troubled mind And plenty of time to roam As I walk this crooked highway Never knowin' where
Well, I got my mail late last night A letter from a girl who found the time to write To her lonesome boy somewhere in the night She sent me a railroad
Four-and-twenty virgins come down from Inverness, And when the Ball was over, there were four-and-twenty less, Singin' balls to your partner, your ass
You may talk of gin and beer When you're stationed way out here An' you're sent to penny fights an' Aldershot it But when it comes to slaughter You will
Met her in the summer She was selling flowers In the streets of Paris And we passed away the hours Talking with our eyes and laughing 'Cause I spoke not