CCR FANPAGE: CREEDENCE CLEARWATER REVIVAL LYRICS

CREEDENCE CLEARWATER REVIVAL FANPAGE

STU COOK / DOUG CLIFFORD

CREEDENCE CLEARWATER REVIVAL LYRICS 1 VON 4

	bad moon rising
	born on the bayou
	down on the corner
	fortunate son
	graveyard train
1 2 3 4
BAD MOON RISING Words and music by John Fogerty I see a bad moon a-rising. I see trouble on the way. I see earth quakes and lightnin'. I see bad times today. Don't go 'round tonight it's bound and take your life, there's a bad moon on the rise. I hear hurricanes a-blowing, I know the end is coming soon. I fear rivers over flowing. I hear the voice of rage and ruin. Don't go 'round tonight it's bound and take your life, there's a bad moon on the rise. Hope you got your things together. Hope you are quit prepared to die. Look's like we're in for nasty weather. One eye is taken for an eye. Don't go 'round tonight it's bound and take your life, there's a bad moon on the rise. Copyright © 1969 by Jondora Music [ Back to the top ]
BORN ON THE BAYOU Words and music by John Fogerty Now, when I just was a little boy, standin to my Daddy's knee, my poppa said "Son, don't let the man get you and do what he done to me." I can remember the fourth of July, runnin' through the backwood bare. And I can still hear my old hound dog barkin', chasin' down a hoodoo there, chasin' down a hoodoo there. Born on the Bayou Born on the Bayou Born on the Bayou Wish I was back on the Bayou, rollin' with some Cajun Queen. Wishin' I where a fast freight train, just a chooglin' on down to New Orleans. Born on the Bayou Born on the Bayou Born on the Bayou I can remember the fourth of July, runnin' through the backwood bare. And I can still hear my old hound dog barkin', chasin' down a hoodoo there, chasin' down a hoodoo there. Born on the Bayou Born on the Bayou Born on the Bayou Copyright © 1968, 1969 by Jondora Music [ Back to the top ]
DOWN ON THE CORNER Words and music by John Fogerty Early in the evenin', just about supper time, over by the court house they're starting to unwind. Four kids on the corner, trying to bring you up. Willy picks a tune out, and he blows it on the harp. Down On The Corner out in the street. Willy and the poor boys are playin' bring a nickel tap your feet. Rooster hits the washboard and people just got smile, Blinky thumps the gut bass, and solos for a while. Poorboy twangs the rythm out on his kalamazoo Willy goes into a dance and doubles on kazoo. Down On The Corner out in the street. Willy and the poor boys are playin' bring a nickel tap your feet. Down On The Corner out in the street. Willy and the poor boys are playin' bring a nickel tap your feet. You don't need a penny, just to hang around, but if you've got a nickel, won't you lay your money down? Over on the corner there's a happy noise. People come from all around to watch the magic boy. Down On The Corner out in the street. Willy and the poor boys are playin' bring a nickel tap your feet. Down On The Corner out in the street. Willy and the poor boys are playin' bring a nickel tap your feet. Down On The Corner out in the street. Willy and the poor boys are playin' bring a nickel tap your feet. Down On The Corner out in the street. Willy and the poor boys are playin' bring a nickel tap your feet. Copyright © 1969 by Jondora Music [ Back to the top ]
FORTUNATE SON Words and music by John Fogerty Some folks are born made to wave the flag, Ooh, they're red, whit and blue. And when the band plays "Hail to the chief", they point the cannon right at you. It ain't me, it ain't me. I ain't no senator's son. It ain't me, it ain't me. I ain't no fortunate one. Some folks are born silver spoon in hand, Lord don't they help themselves. But when the tax man comes to the door, Lord, the house looks like a rummage sale. It ain't me, it ain't me. I ain't no millionaire's son. It ain't me, it ain't me. I ain't no fortunate one. Some folks inherit star spangled eyes, Ooh, they send you down to war. And when you ask them, "How much should we give?" They only answer "More! More! More!" It ain't me, it ain't me. I ain't no military son. It ain't me, it ain't me. I ain't no fortunate one. It ain't me, it ain't me. I ain't no Fortunate Son. Copyright © 1969 by Jondora Music [ Back to the top ]
GRAVEYARD TRAIN Words and music by John Fogerty On the highway, thirty people lost their lives. On the highway, thirty people lost their lives. I had some words to holler, and my Rosie took a ride. In the moonlight, see the Greyhound rollin' on. In the moonlight, see the Greyhound rollin' on. Flyin' through the crossroads, Rosie ran into the Hound. For the graveyard, thirty boxes made of bone. For the graveyard, thirty boxes made of bone. Mister Undertaker, take this coffin from my home. In the midnight, here me cryin' out her name. In the midnight, here me cryin' out her name. I'm standin' on the railroad, waitin' for the Graveyard Train. On the highway, thirty people turned to stone. On the highway, thirty people turned to stone. Oh, take me to the station, 'Cause I'm number thirty-one'. Copyright © 1969 by Jondora Music [ Back to the top ]



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