Little Songs [LETRA] Colter Wall Lyrics | QLETRAS.COM

Letra Little Songs - Colter Wall

There's an old man in the foothills

And if he ain't dead, he's living there still

Loved them little cuttin' horses

All his life

That's a high-dollar habit

He don't mind, he's financed it

Building songs

And losing wives

You won't get much on mountain time

Except older and a thicker hide

You got to fill the big empty

With little songs

There's a lady on the highline

She's fighting drought and her own mind

Day by day, she's been losing

To the wind

'Cause between the price of feed

And the moisture she don't see

A gal considers selling out

Or pitting in

You might not see a soul for days

On them high and lonesome plains

You got to fill the big empty

With little songs

You got to fill the big empty

With little songs

You got to fill the big empty

With little songs

Top 5 canciones de Colter Wall

Estas son algunas de las canciones más escuchadas de Colter Wall. Si te gustó "Little Songs", también puedes leer sus letras, conocer sus colaboraciones y explorar su discografía completa en QLETRAS.COM.

One, two, three, fourI was ridin' my horse 'cross the pastureI jerked my catch twine downI seen a cow and a sticker in her eyeAnd I bedded that ol' hide downI bedded that ol' hide downMy horse, he knew his...

And I dream in the mornin' that she brings me water And I dream in the evenin' that she brings me wine Just a poor man's daughter in Puerto Peñasco South of the border in old Mexico There's a great hot desert south...

Tying Knots in the Devil’s Tail

Well, it was way high up in the Sierry PetesWhere the yellow pines grow tallRusty Diggs and Sandy SamHad a round-up camp last fallThey had their ponies and their running ironsAnd maybe a dog or twoAnd they 'lowed...

Corralling the Blues

I might get to thinkin' That I might could quit drinkin' But then what else is there to do And it's this contemplation That spurs conversation With the ceilin' I've been talkin' to If I keep my hands workin' It holds...

For a Long While

This old guitar, I've toted far And though she's sometimes outta tune She earns her keep each time she speaks In the dance halls and barrooms There ain't an hour that old wildwood flower Don't procure a little smile...

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