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Ol' morning crimson dawn |
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...there's a creek now on the floor |
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Do the paupers sleep tonight? |
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Do the children read or write? |
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There's a pot a brewin' |
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A beat-up cup for fillin' |
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Now the paper is saying that are polls are shifting |
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Our train's ahead |
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and its patrons have been so mislead |
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Judges play gypsy roles |
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cherry pickin' while the gentleman falls Oh Oh |
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Aching prophets scurry south |
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Tangled up in all their vows |
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They can hear us from the street |
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It's a shame we can't retreat |
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You see the road is seasoned |
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with the bows of treason |
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Painted wagons are gleamin' |
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while the dust is settling |
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Our train's ahead |
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and its patrons have been so mislead |
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Judges play gypsy roles |
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cherry pickin' while the gentleman falls Oh Oh (2x) |
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There's a pot a brewin! |