When Patsy Cline Was Crazy (And Guy Mitchell Sang The Blues) - Ricky Warwick

Red hands as big as Ulster

Stubble on his chin

We’d wrestle on the front room floor

And his beard would burn my skin

When Dickie Davis told us

That Lester’s horse had won

I’d run along behind him

And he’d shield me from the sun

With the money from their winnin’s

They’d sing and drink till dawn

And I got to stay up late at night

And put their records on

Dusty Springfield, dusty case

He kept the music in

Bobby Darin, Mack The Knife

And a love that I can’t win

I’d pile them high

(I'd pile them high)

The 45s

(The 45s)

That he would make me choose

When Patsy Cline was crazy

And Guy Mitchell sang the blues

But when I wasn’t lookin'

The music moved away

Hank Williams never came around

And Sinatra wouldn’t stay

And talkin' to the old man

Was filled with hurt and pain

So Johnny Ray would spend his nights

Just walkin' in the rain

I’d pile them high

(I'd pile them high)

The 45s

(The 45s)

That he would make me choose

When Patsy Cline was crazy

And Guy Mitchell sang the blues

Now I’m sittin' here on Island Hill

And both of them have gone

But on the wind, I hear him laugh

«Son, put the records on.»

If I could have just one more night

I know that I’d still choose

When Patsy Cline was crazy

And Guy Mitchell sang the blues

Oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh

When Patsy Cline was crazy

When Patsy Cline was crazy

When Patsy Cline was crazy