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Ain't no fun for the Reverend's Son |
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To carry that family name |
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For the woman that he wants to marry |
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Is bringing his family shame |
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Papa likes to preach about throwing old stones |
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For throwing them every which way |
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She hang a sign in the window |
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And everybody knows her name |
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In the back of a second-hand store |
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Wearing a dress that some other bride wore |
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She holds a list of the things to be done |
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When into the room burst the Reverend's Son |
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Darlin' I fear that my feet grow too weary |
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From walkin' this line |
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All of my life I've been doing what's right |
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No one towin' this family line |
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Ain't no fun for the Reverend's Son |
|
To carry that family name |
|
For the woman that he wants to marry |
|
Is bringing his family shame |
|
Papa likes to preach about throwing old stones |
|
For throwing them every which way |
|
She hang a sign in the window |
|
And everybody knows her name |
|
In a room at their favorite motel |
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Bags are all packed and she waits by herself |
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Counting the hours she prays he will come |
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Doubting the words of the Reverend's Son |
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Darlin' I fear that my feet are too weary |
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From walkin' this line |
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All of my life I've been doing what's right |
|
And I must keep on towin' this line |
|
Ain't no fun for the Reverend's Son |
|
To carry that family name |
|
For the woman that he wants to marry |
|
Is bringing his family shame |
|
Papa likes to preach about throwing old stones |
|
For throwing them every which way |
|
She hang a sign in the window |
|
And everybody knows her name |
|
Oooohhhh... Yeeeaaa... |
|
Ain't no fun for the Reverend's Son |
|
To carry that family name |
|
For the woman that he wants to marry |
|
Is bringing his family shame |
|
Papa likes to preach about throwing old stones |
|
For throwing them every which way |
|
She hang a sign in the window |
|
And everybody knows her name |
|
She hang a sign in the window |
|
And everybody knows her name |
|
She hang a sign in the window |
|
And everybody knows her name |