| Seems like ten years ago, though today my mind is slow
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| Me and Mickey Craig were running west from Idaho
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| Robbed a bank to get some bread, seems like fifteen men lay dead
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| In a path that led us straight to Santa Rosa
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| Now and then ol' Mickey’d say, «Boy, at home you should’ve stayed
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| Than to follow me and learn the life of looking back»
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| But he’d spit and slap his side just to see if he’s alive
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| Then he’d sing his banjo song of Santa Rosa
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| He said, whoa-oh, singin', «Oh, Santa Rosa», whoa-oh, high and low, ooh
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| Then one day, sang ol' Craig, «I'll be free to go my way
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| And be standin' by the bay at Santa Rosa», yeah
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| Now one time, late at night, Mickey lit no fire light
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| 'Cause he feared the posse close behind might flush us out
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| But he picked a bit 'fore sleep to the tune of Cripple Creek
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| He was murdered by a man from Santa Rosa
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| He sang, whoa-oh, singin', «Oh, Santa Rosa»
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| Whoa-oh, singin', «Oh, Santa Rosa», whoa-oh, high and low, ooh
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| Till I come once again with my banjo pickin' friend
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| We’ll be, oh, high and low in Santa Rosa
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| Get up |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Santa Rosa , by - Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. Song from the album Uncle Charlie And His Dog Teddy, in the genre Поп