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When I was five years old |
[00:16.02] |
Lookin' through the window pane, |
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There was debt growin' in the fields, |
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Every year it was the same, |
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There was burnt up corn, |
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Livin in a dusty haze, |
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And daddy'd say good night son, I love you, |
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And pray for rain. |
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Well, it was about mid July when daddy's pride sank, |
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He told my momma, he was goin' to the bank, |
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He put on his Sunday's best, but it didnt hide his pain, |
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The banker said take the money son, |
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But you better, pray for rain. |
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Well there's no clouds to hide the sun, |
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And there's no waters in the creeks, |
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And there's a fear in the congregation, |
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Every Sunday when we meet, |
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That the devil's found West Texas |
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And he may never leave, |
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The preacher gives his sermon, |
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Says pay your tithes and pray for rain. |
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Now my daddy's land is mine, |
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And times sure aint the same, |
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The blacktop's taken over, |
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There's no room to grow the grain, |
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And now the man down at the bank |
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He don't understand my pain, |
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Cause he don't have to lay his head down every night, |
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And pray for rain. |
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When I was five years old, |
[03:10.58] |
Lookin' through the window pane, |
[03:13.68] |
There was debt growin in the fields, |
[03:16.80] |
Every year it was the same. |
[03:19.94] |
There was burnt up corn, |
[03:22.98] |
Livin' in a dusty haze, |
[03:25.73] |
And daddy'd say good night son, |
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I love you, |
[03:33.60] |
And pray for rain. |
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