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(Grady and Hazel Cole) |
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Only a tramp was Lazarus that day, |
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He lay down by the rich man's gate. |
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He begged for crumbs from the rich man to eat |
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But they left him to die like a tramp on the street. |
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And Jesus who died on Calvary's tree, |
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Shed his life blood for you and for me |
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They pierced his side, his hands and his feet |
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And they left Him to die like a tramp on the street. |
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He was Mary's own darlin', he was Mary's own son; |
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Once he was fair and once he was young, |
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And Mary she rocked him, her little darlin' to sleep, |
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But they left him to die like a tramp on the street. |
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When the battles are over, and the victory's won, |
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Everyone mourns with the poor man's son, |
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Red white and blue, and victory sweet, |
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And they left him to die like a tramp on the street. |