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My daddy left home when I was three |
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And he didn't leave much to Ma and me |
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Just this old guitar and an empty bottle of booze. |
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Now, I don't blame him cause he run and hid |
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But the meanest thing that he ever did |
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Was before he left, he went and named me 'Sue.' |
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Well, he must o' thought that is was quite a joke |
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And it got a lot of laughs from a' lots of folk, |
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It seems I had to fight my whole life through. |
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Some gal would giggle and I'd get red |
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And some guy'd laugh and I'd bust his head, |
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I tell ya, life ain't easy for a boy named 'Sue.' |
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Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean, |
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My fist got hard and my wits got keen, |
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I'd roam from town to town to hide my shame. |
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But I made me a vow to the moon and stars |
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That I'd search the honky-tonks and bars |
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And kill that man that give me that awful name. |
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Well, it was Gatlinburg in mid-July |
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And I just hit town and my throat was dry, |
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I thought I'd stop and have myself a brew. |
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At an old saloon on a street of mud, |
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There at a table, dealing stud, |
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Sat the dirty, mangy dog that named me 'Sue.' |
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Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad |
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From a worn-out picture that my mother'd had, |
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And I knew that scar on his cheek and his evil eye. |
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He was big and bent and gray and old, |
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And I looked at him and my blood ran cold |
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And I said: "My name is 'Sue!' how do you do! Now you gonna die!" |
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Well, I hit him hard right between the eyes |
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And he went down but, to my surprise, |
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Hee up with a knife and cut off a piece of my ear. |
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But I busted a chair right across his teeth |
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And we crashed through the wall and into the street |
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Kicking and a' gouging in the mud and the blood and the beer. |
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I tell ya, I've fought tougher men |
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But I really can't remember when, |
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He kicked like a mule and he bit like a crocodile. |
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I heard him laugh and then I heard him cuss, |
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He went for his gun and I pulled mine first, |
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He stood there lookin' at me and I saw him smile. |
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And he said: "Son, this world is rough |
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And if a man's gonna make it, he's gotta be tough |
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And I know I wouldn't be there to help ya along. |
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So I give ya that name and I said good-bye |
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I knew you'd have to get tough or die |
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And it's that name that helped to make you strong." |
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He said: 'Now you just fought one hell of a fight |
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And I know you hate me, and you got the right |
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To kill me now, and I wouldn't blame you if you do. |
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But ya ought to thank me, before I die, |
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For the gravel in ya guts and the spit in ya eye |
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Cause I'm the son-of-a-bitch that named you 'Sue'.' |
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I got all choked up and I threw down my gun |
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And I called him my pa, and he called me his son, |
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And Ie away with a different point of view. |
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And I think about him, now and then, |
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Every time I try and every time I win, |
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And if I ever have a son, I think I'm gonna name him |
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Bill or George! Anything but sue! I still hate that name! |