halt. Please throw down the box sir. And madame please I don't need your money or pearls They call him Black Bart P08. The highway bandit poetry man. Leaving his poem, disappeared. Like a ghost on
"Come On Eileen". (Come On Eileen). (Come On Eileen). Poor old Johnny Ray. Sounded sad upon the radio. But he moved a million hearts in mono. Our mothers cried. Sang along. Who'd blame them. You've
"Come On Eileen". (Come On Eileen). (Come On Eileen). Poor old Johnny Ray. Sounded sad upon the radio. But he moved a million hearts in mono. Our mothers cried. Sang along. Who'd blame them. You've
"Come On Eileen". (Come On Eileen). (Come On Eileen). Poor old Johnny Ray. Sounded sad upon the radio. But he moved a million hearts in mono. Our mothers cried. Sang along. Who'd blame them. You've
