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Son Of A Poor Man Songtext
Hometown lady, leavin' for the city
Bags in hand, she's boardin' the train
Her last look through the window, I saw her eyes were as red as mine
I waved goodbye but I can't believe she's leaving.
But a woman can't be high-class
In a lonely farmer's town
And the son of a poor man
Ain't gonna turn your head around
But if you ever get lonely
Just pick up the telephone
Maybe soon I'll see her on some television show
Painted lips and fingers singing for the world
A fashion plate for sure dancin' for your plastic world
Call me up if you can but if not well I'll understand
But a woman can't be high-class
In a lonely farmer's town
And the son of a poor man
Ain't gonna turn your head around
But if you ever get lonely
Just pick up the telephone
And the son of a poor man will bring you home
And the son of a poor man will bring you home.
Bags in hand, she's boardin' the train
Her last look through the window, I saw her eyes were as red as mine
I waved goodbye but I can't believe she's leaving.
But a woman can't be high-class
In a lonely farmer's town
And the son of a poor man
Ain't gonna turn your head around
But if you ever get lonely
Just pick up the telephone
Maybe soon I'll see her on some television show
Painted lips and fingers singing for the world
A fashion plate for sure dancin' for your plastic world
Call me up if you can but if not well I'll understand
But a woman can't be high-class
In a lonely farmer's town
And the son of a poor man
Ain't gonna turn your head around
But if you ever get lonely
Just pick up the telephone
And the son of a poor man will bring you home
RICHRATH, GARY /
© EMI Music Publishing
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© EMI Music Publishing
Songtext powered by LyricFind