作词 : Harris, Kennerley Her mama picked him up in south Minnesota He promised her the world but they never got that far For he was last seen in that '59 DeSota When Sally was born in the black hills of Dakota. She was washed in the blood of the dying Sioux nation Raised with a proud but a wandering heart And she knew that her roots were in the old reservation But she had stars in her eyes and greater expectations. No rings on her fingers, no bells on her toes With bugs on her headlights and runs in her hose Through the valley of the shadow of Roosevelt's nose Adios South Dakota, adios Sally Rose. They've got a national monument carved out of stone On the side of a mountain where her forefathers roamed Playin' cowboys and Indians right under the nose Of Theodore Roosevelt and the sweet Sally Rose. So she left Rapid City in the blue moonlight hour With her eye on the highway and her foot on the floor And turnin' the dial, she was pulled by the power Of the word coming out of that broadcasting tower. No rings on her fingers, no bells on her toes With bugs on her headlights and runs in her hose Through the valley of the shadow of Roosevelt's nose Adios South Dakota, adios Sally Rose...
作词 : Harris, Kennerley Her mama picked him up in south Minnesota He promised her the world but they never got that far For he was last seen in that '59 DeSota When Sally was born in the black hills of Dakota. She was washed in the blood of the dying Sioux nation Raised with a proud but a wandering heart And she knew that her roots were in the old reservation But she had stars in her eyes and greater expectations. No rings on her fingers, no bells on her toes With bugs on her headlights and runs in her hose Through the valley of the shadow of Roosevelt's nose Adios South Dakota, adios Sally Rose. They've got a national monument carved out of stone On the side of a mountain where her forefathers roamed Playin' cowboys and Indians right under the nose Of Theodore Roosevelt and the sweet Sally Rose. So she left Rapid City in the blue moonlight hour With her eye on the highway and her foot on the floor And turnin' the dial, she was pulled by the power Of the word coming out of that broadcasting tower. No rings on her fingers, no bells on her toes With bugs on her headlights and runs in her hose Through the valley of the shadow of Roosevelt's nose Adios South Dakota, adios Sally Rose...
