Lettre a France
He spits in the dust between his boots, as the semi pulls away.
The slick blue check in his grimy hands, shoves down in his coat.
It won't make the payment on the land, or pay the interst on the note.
Oh...it's hard, hard times...
He's a young man with a loving wife, 2 children and a home.
Plans to build a better life, and put a mortagage on his own.
He lost his job when the boom went bust, still got bills to pay.
Now he's pickin' up cans in the roadside dust, she's at the Feed-Rack
cafe.
Oh....it's ha
Donna
Oh Donna
You made me stand up
You made me sit down, Donna
Sit down, Donna
Sit down
You made stand up
Donna waiting by the telephone
Donna waiting for the phone to ring
Oh Donna
You make me break up
You make me break down, Donna
Break down, Donna
Break down
You make me break up
Meanwhile waiting by the telephone
Donna is waiting for the phone to ring
"Hello, darling
Yes I love you darling
Yes I love you"
Oh Donna
You made me stand up
You made me sit down, Donna
Sit down, Donna
Sit down
You make stand up
Donna I'd stand on my head for you
Oh my love, my own one
Oh my love, my own one
Donna waiting by the telephone
Donna waiting for the phone to ring
Oh Donna
Oh Donna
Oh Donna
Oh Donna
Donna I love you