Американские Народные Песни


Oh, I'm a poor wayfarin' stranger,
Travlin' through this world of woe.
Yet there's no toil no sweat or danger,
In that world to which I go.

I'm going home to see my lov'd ones,
I'm going home, no more to roam.
I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger,
Going home, just going home.

Представляют Мастера Гитары
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