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Mama when she'd ride that horse |
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Buried out in Wilson fields |
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Mama'd tell me all she thought |
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Mama'd tell me all how riding feels |
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And I thought |
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Not yet. |
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Then when mama got too old |
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No one ever rode that horse |
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Until one night I stole her key |
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And I did ride it all night 'till dawn |
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When I thought |
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Not yet. |
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It looks an ugly world out there |
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Of girl-guides and disease and war |
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I love my little velvet bed |
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I never want to leave it anymore |
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At least |
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Not yet. |
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Charlie was the first I caught |
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And Charlie was the first I begged |
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To lay an anchor in my heart |
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He was running his fingers down the inside of my legs |
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When I thought |
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Not yet. |
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All my fears will come to me in dreams |
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Maybe the end ain't as far as it seems |
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Not yet revived but not yet mourned |
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Not quite denied just not yet born. |