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Angeline, Angeline, darker nights I've never seen |
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I don't love these East Texas pines |
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Where I can't find my sleep in the shadows so deep |
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And dark as the doubts in my mind |
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Freight train on the trestle rolling east towards the Natchez |
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Like the one I got off of so long ago |
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Outside of a small town where I didn't mean to settle down |
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Not knowing the seeds I would sow |
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Barefoot in the autumn weeds, cotton dress hanging to your knees |
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To the eyes of a stranger you offered a smile |
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Took a job in your daddy's fields, didn't seem like such a bad deal |
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At least it would do for a while |
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We were both young and unabashed, we took what life offered |
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While your folks were distracted or too tired to care |
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As the cold gripped the land the fates forced our hand |
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Your dresses fit tighter with the spring in the air |
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Now I watch the trains rattle on from the seat of the tractor |
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Your daddy's old harness still hangs in the barn |
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And your mama don't like it that our children all scattered |
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She swears it's my blood, it was not meant to farm |
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And you and I don't talk a lot, we don't really have to |
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We've spent many a year reading each other's minds |
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We gave up the lightning, now we don't bother fighting |
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These things will happen in time |
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Angeline, Angeline, darker nights I've never seen |
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I don't love these East Texas pines |
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Where I can't find my sleep in the shadows so deep |
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And dark as the doubts in my mind |