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The gravel galavants on the verdict |
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Of the swine that was fed human remains |
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It was a murder's victims somewhere north of the canadian border |
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They ended up in your lunch break |
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In which you may want to hold your breath ' |
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Til the dream sequence is for this one |
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New rural ruins or street fed a postmodern pigeons |
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These pigs were fed |
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These pigs were ready to be sold |
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These pigs were fed |
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These pigs were ready to be sold |
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Once had but now widowed |
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His companion had a chance to |
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Pop one out before her body gave in |
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A bouncing baby gal, beautiful in posture |
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She grew up with the cows 'til the cows left town |
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Daddy brought home the bacon |
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The bacon was in the backyard, baby |
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Daddy left the ranch ' |
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Cause daddy had a sharp hand, a sharp hand |
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Through fingers cracked from stress and cold |
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Daddy fed the herd grain |
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Then drank as much of the same |
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These pigs were fed |
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These pigs were ready to be sold |
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These pigs were fed |
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These pigs were ready to be sold |
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Take your pigs hoof and follow it to the city |
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Take this chance and go to the city |
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Daddy's baby girl |
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Daddy's little wanderer |
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Let's go out and get jobs |
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Let's go out and be all grown up |
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The city is hiding underneath your bed |
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The monster in your closet is eight weeks away |
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You've got to saddle up now |
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Daddy's baby girl is all grown up |
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But you will not be there when she coughs up your family line |
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You will be the furthest thing from her mind |
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A grey ghost, a black cowboy will by the last reflection |
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I will not be there, not yet |
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I will not be there, not yet |
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I will not be there, not yet |
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I will not be there, not yet |
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I will not be there, not yet |
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I will not be there, not yet |
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I will not be there, not yet |
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I will not be there, not yet |
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I will not be there, not yet |
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I will not be there, not yet |
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I will not be there, not yet |
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I will not be there, not yet |
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I'm running out of time |
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I'm sorry |
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I forgot It's not my fault |
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Greetings from the great north woods |