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Sleeping At The Foot Of The Bed

Höfundur lags: Eugene Wilson og Luther Patrick Höfundur texta: Eugene Wilson og Luther Patrick Flytjandi: Little Jimmy Dickens Sent inn af: Anonymous
[C]Did you ever sleep at the foot of the bed
When the [F]weather was whizzing [C]cold

When wind was whistling around the house
And the [D7]moon was yeller as [G7]gold   

You [C]give your good warm mattress up
To Aunt [F]Lizzie and Uncle [C]Fred
Too [F]many kinfolks [C]on a bad night
And you [G7]went to the foot of the [C]bed  


I could always wait till the old folks ate
And [F]eat the leaving's with [C]grace

The teacher could keep me after school
I'd [D7]still have a smile on my [G7]face   

I could [C]wear the big boys worn out clothes
Or let [F]sister have my [C]sled
But it [F]always did get my [C]nanny goat
To [G7]sleep at the foot of the [C]bed  


It was fine enough when kinfolks come
And the [F]kid brought brand new [C]games

You could see how fat all the old folks was
And [D7]learn all the babies [G7]names

Had [C]biscuits and custard and chicken pie
We [F]all got Sunday [C]fed  
But I [F]knowed darn well when [C]night come
I was [G7]headed for the foot of the [C]bed  


They say some folks don't know what it is
Having [F]company all over the [C]place

To wrestle for cover on a winter night
With a [D7]big foot setting in your [G7]face   

Or [C]cold toenails a scratching your back
And the [F]foot-board scrubbing your [C]head
I'll [F]tell the world you ain't [C]lost a thing
Never [G7]sleeping at the foot of the [C]bed  


I've done it over and over again
In this [F]land of the brave and the [C]free

And in this all fired battle of life
It's [D7]left its mark on [G7]me   

For [C]I'm always a struggling around at the foot
Instead [F]of forging a[C]head
And I [F]don't think it's caused from a [C]doggone thing
But [G7]sleeping at the foot of the [C]bed  

Did you ever sleep at the foot of the bed
When the weather was whizzing cold

When wind was whistling around the house
And the moon was yeller as gold

You give your good warm mattress up
To Aunt Lizzie and Uncle Fred
Too many kinfolks on a bad night
And you went to the foot of the bed

I could always wait till the old folks ate
And eat the leaving's with grace

The teacher could keep me after school
I'd still have a smile on my face

I could wear the big boys worn out clothes
Or let sister have my sled
But it always did get my nanny goat
To sleep at the foot of the bed

It was fine enough when kinfolks come
And the kid brought brand new games

You could see how fat all the old folks was
And learn all the babies names

Had biscuits and custard and chicken pie
We all got Sunday fed
But I knowed darn well when night come
I was headed for the foot of the bed

They say some folks don't know what it is
Having company all over the place

To wrestle for cover on a winter night
With a big foot setting in your face

Or cold toenails a scratching your back
And the foot-board scrubbing your head
I'll tell the world you ain't lost a thing
Never sleeping at the foot of the bed

I've done it over and over again
In this land of the brave and the free

And in this all fired battle of life
It's left its mark on me

For I'm always a struggling around at the foot
Instead of forging ahead
And I don't think it's caused from a doggone thing
But sleeping at the foot of the bed

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