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Here comes the night, there go your knees, reaching for the floor. |
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You say I'll stand guard down here, she stands in the door, |
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With a pony on the tether pulling cold and sugarcane. |
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There go your knees. |
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And there she goes. |
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She's a-hauling cane like it was gold. |
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And when she calls upon the dead, |
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to stand up in her place, |
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They'll raise the roof up overhead, |
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and speak out from her face. |
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And fish jump in her boat all day, |
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and flog your feet like steel. |
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There go the dead. |
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Out through the roof. |
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She speaks your name, |
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Like it was proof. |
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The carnies kick the gravel, |
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and they wait for you in town, |
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They pull back on the lever, |
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and they bring the truck around. |
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But her fingers on her lips |
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Are like a penny for a fuse. |
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And it would take, |
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All the world to go, |
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The town will burn, |
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For all you know. |