49 Days Scheduler

I'm old Tom Moore from the bummer's shore in that good old golden days They call me a bummer and a ginsot too, but what cares I for praise? I wander around from town to town just like a roving sign And all the people say, "there goes Tom Moore, in the days of '49" In the days of old, in the days of gold How often times I repine for the days of old When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49 My comrades they all loved me well, a jolly saucy crew A few hard cases I will recall though they all were brave and true Whatever the pitch they never would flinch, they never would fret or whine Like good old bricks they stood the kicks in the days of '49 In the days of old, in the days of gold How oft'times I repine for the days of old When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49 There was new york jake, the butcher's boy, he was always getting tight And every time that he'd get full he was spoiling for a fight But jake rampaged against a knife in the hands of old bob stein And over jake they held a wake in the days of '49 In the days of old, in the days of gold How often times i repine for the days of old When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49 There was poker bill, one of the boys who was always in a game Whether he lost or whether he won, to him it was always the same He would ante up and draw his cards and he would you go a hatful blind In the game with death bill lost his breath, in the days of '49 In the days of old, in the days of gold In the day of times i repine in the days of old In the days of gold, those were days of '49 There was ragshag bill from buffalo, i never will forget He would roar all day and he'd roar all night and i guess he's roaring yet One day he fell in a prospect hole, in a roaring bad design And in that hole he roared out his soul, in the days of '49 In the days of old, in the days of gold How oft'times i repine for the days of old When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49 Of the comrades all that i've had, there's none that's left to boast And i'm left alone in my misery like some ol' poor wandering ghost And i pass by from town to town, they call me the rambling sign "There goes tom moore, a bummer shore in the days of '49" In the days of old, in the days of gold How often times i repine for the days of old When we dug up the gold, in the days of '49 In the days of old, when we dug up the gold How oft'times i repine in the days of old In the days of gold, in the days of '49

Пий алкашку, жери бензоси Трощи кістяшки об стіну зі злості Пий алкашку, жери бензоси Нахуй забудь, де і як упоровся Пий алкашку, жери безноси Вздовж та впоперек пили свої троси Пий алкашку, жери бензоси Зраджуй, найобуй, пизди об'єбосе Будь там що, пам'ятай декларацію Записану кров'ю, сльозами засвідчену В щоденник де сотні минулих умовностей Отримаш вигоду – викликай нотаріуса Нехай рве папір, кромсає і палить Нові тимчасові обіцянкі безглузді Що бажаєш? Не тягни, оформляємо На місці вже новісенький штемпель Від тебе лиш треба кров, біль, речовини Без останнього дядьку – справи не буде Підписуй ковтками, занюхуй та злизуй Як людина доросла, людина свідома Що не вперше йде вниз по спіралі Давно вже шлях свій на мапі зазначив Давно вже котишся вниз по спіралі Хіба свій шлях ти уйобок не знаєш? Пий алкашку, жери бензоси Трощи кістяшки об стіну зі злості Пий алкашку, жери бензоси Нахуй забудь, де і як упоровся Один літр пива, за ним літр другий Третій, четвертий, є ще? Заливаєм Габани шіссоточку терапевтичну Наркотики – нахуй, я їх не вживаю Як стане погано – ти знаєш три цифри Скажи що турбує щось що ти не знаєш Скажи що міняє щось дуже хтонічне І крутить у місці яке не опишеш Крап крап крапельниця Таблетки рандомні та все ж седативні Крап крап крапельниця Три дні і я знову готовий до бою 49 годин абстиненції лютої Відіб'ють все бажання пірнати в горлянку І жерти і жерти єбучі ті табли Надовго? не знаю Хоча би на тиждень 49 годин абстиненції лютої Помнож на вічність та возведи в ступінь 49 років шизи неминучої Чекають попереду на мотлох єбучий Пий алкашку, жери бензоси Трощи кістяшки об стіну зі злості Пий алкашку, жери бензоси Нахуй забудь, де і як упоровся Один літр пива, за ним літр другий Третій, четвертий, є ще? Заливаєм Габани шіссоточку терапевтичну Наркотики – нахуй, я їх не вживаю

49 percent 1 percent short of half And less than half Ain't really much of nothing Bit off more than one could bite And the taste is slight It leaves this dullish appetite 'Bout time I've finally seen the light And said goodnight, For the sling is tight We'll lose this fight In a corner painted white As you fly your kite I shun the sight, I've seen the light! And now I've got to say goodnight, you know I'm right! 49 percent 1 percent short of half And less than half Ain't really much of nothing 49 percent 1 percent short of half And less than half Ain't really much of nothing I won't try to stop your flight Or change your night or nothing, Less than half Why won't you try To make this damage better? Math and imagery Equates cacophony Multiplies muteness: a sum better disturbed For silence subtracts And shadows divide Light Less than half is slight Math and imagery Equates cacophony Multiplies muteness: a sum better disturbed For silence subtracts And shadows divide Light Less than half is slight The heat is center forward The heat is center forward The heat is center forward The heat is center forward The heat is center forward 49 percent 1 percent short of half And less than half Ain't really much of nothing, 49 percent 1 percent short of half And less than half Ain't really much of nothing I won't try to stop your flight Or change your night or nothing, Less than half Why won't you try To make this damage better? 49 percent 1 percent short of half And less than half Ain't really much of nothing, 49 percent 1 percent short of half And less than half Ain't really much of nothing The heat is center forward The heat is center forward The heat is center forward...

I could never think correctly, and you could never show your heart I was set in my ways and you wanted to change and we both fell apart You wanted a man to marry and I could never get past my sin It was all just so strange, I was halfway deranged Pretty much the same shape I'm in now But I need you if I'm gonna make it through this hell, Annabel Your benevolent way and manor, my sickly gunshy heart You wanted for me to heal, But I just tried to conceal it all right from the start Keep it honest and open, that's what you always said But what's a man to do when he don't know the truth And he lives inside his own head now But I need you if I'm gonna make it through this hell And I guess I'll just give it a shot now Try to make it on my own But God it just feels like a letdown That this house just ain't our home Ain't our home But I need you if I'm gonna make it through this hell I need you if I'm gonna make it through this hell I need you if I'm gonna make it through this hell, Annabel

I'm gonna get up in the mornin', Gonna hit that Highway 49 I'm gonna get up in the mornin', Gonna hit that Highway 49 I been lookin' for my Elvonnie(?), That sweet woman's steady on my mind First I'm gonna stop by whiskey store, Pick me up a jug o'wine First I'm gonna stop by the whiskey store, Pick me up a six-pack o'wine I been lookin' for my baby, She's restin' on my weary mind Yeah, it'll be soon in the mornin' When I go rollin' into Jacksontown, downtown It'll be soon in the mornin' When I go rollin' into Jackson, Mississippi town I been lookin' for my baby, The police said she can't be found Don't tell me that I'm gonna get up in the mornin', Gonna hit that Highway 49 I'm gonna get up in the mornin', Gonna hit that Highway 49 I'm gonna dust my blues, peoples, Leave this raggedy-ass town behind