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Gordon Macrae
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Hair Of Gold, Eyes Of Blue
I came down from Butte, Montana,
For a little change of scene,
And I stopped to stay in Santa Fe,
Where I met a pretty queen.
Hair of gold, eyes of blue,
Lips like cherry wine
She's the prettiest gal I ever know and I'm gonna make her mine.
Now I planned to leave on Monday,
But she held me kinda tight,
So I stood my ground and hung around,
And then I left on Friday night.
Oh, hair of gold, eyes of blue,
Lips like cherry wine,
The prettiest gal I ever knew and I'm gonna make her mine.
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