Ticket Home - The Bones of J.R. Jones

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Summer rain won’t you come to me

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This man needs your sympathy

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Wash over me

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Wash over me

I swear I ain’t a criminial

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Just a man who needs a miracle

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Swing low for me

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Swing low for me

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Cause I been to hell

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And I lived to tell

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That I ain’t goin back

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No, I ain’t goin back

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The devils goin to chase me

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Cause I ain’t goin quielty

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Goin tire him out

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Goin to run him out

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I hear the train coming

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I’m heading back to the station

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It’s my ticket home

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It’s my ticket home

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I wanna go where the lillies grow

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A place a day I can rest a soul

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And I’m almost there

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Yes, i’m almost there

I’m almost there…

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Summer rain won’t you come to me

This man needs your sympathy

And, Wash over me

Wash over me