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It was the third of June |
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Another sleepy, dusty Delta day |
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I was out choppin' cotton |
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And my brother was balin' hay |
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At dinner time we stopped |
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Walked back to the house to eat |
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Mama hollered out the back door |
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"Y'all remember to wipe your feet" |
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Then she said, "I got some news |
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This mornin' from Choctaw Ridge" |
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"Today Billy Joe Mac Allister |
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Jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge" |
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Papa said to Mama as he passed |
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Around the black eyed peas |
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"Well, Billy Joe never had a lick of sense |
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Pass the biscuits, please" |
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"There's five more acres |
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In the lower forty I've got to plow" |
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Mama said it was shame |
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About Billy Joe, anyhow |
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Seems like nothin' ever comes |
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To no good up on Choctaw Ridge |
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And now Billy Joe Mac Allister's |
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Jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge |
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Mama said to me |
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"Child, what's happened to your appetite? |
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I've been cookin' all mornin' |
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And you haven't touched a single bite" |
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"That nice young preacher |
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Brother Taylor, dropped by today |
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Said he'd be pleased to have a dinner |
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On Sunday, oh, by the way" |
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"He said he saw a girl that looked a lot |
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Like you up on Choctaw Ridge" |
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"And she and Billy Joe were throwing |
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Somethin' off the Tallahatchie Bridge" |
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Well, a year has come 'n' gone |
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Since we heard the news about Billy Joe |
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Brother married Becky Thompson |
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Bought a store in Tupelo |
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There was a virus going 'round |
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Papa caught it and he died last Spring |
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Now Mama doesn't seem |
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To wanna do much of anything |
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And me, I spend a lot of time |
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Pickin' flowers up on Choctaw Ridge |
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And drop them into the muddy water |
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Off the Tallahatchie Bridge |