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Half-mast land grants homesteading laws |
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past Dodge Summit toward Athabasca Falls |
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practicing our Avocets and Gnatcatcher calls |
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I laid down my guns where the soldierfish swam |
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& slept inside the shoe of the world's tallest man |
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I saw Charlotte Corday with the knife in her hand |
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(It was nothing new) |
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I've perched on Steele Dakota's sandhill crane |
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I flew among the Paiute before the Mormon rain |
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I was in Virginia City for the stringing up of Clubfoot Lane |
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but I've never seen anything like you. |
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All untied, by and by! |
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But I'd pour the matrimony wine |
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All untied, by and by! |
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so if you're ever so inclined |
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(oh if you're ever so inclined) |
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(oh if you're ever so inclined) |
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while low in a lodgepole branch nearby |
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a lovesick Barnyard an amorous eye |
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What unprecedented gift does this afternoon provide? |
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What from the air now calls to water on the land? |
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What from my seclusion does this charlatan demand? |
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What to do now with my best-laid eremetic plans? |
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I've been to the Arfaks where the Sicklebills fly |
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seen Tangier's acrobatics nine stories high |
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I was there at Appomattox back in '65 |
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when the General arrived |
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but I've never been in this room before! |
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(aside) |
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All untied, by and by! |
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that same old dream's trapped in my mind. |
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All untied, by and by! |
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I'm bound in ropes and on the firing line. |
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All untied, by and by! |
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well I wake up disappointed every time. |
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I wake up disappointed every time. |
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I wake up disappointed every time. |
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(I wake up disappointed every time.) |
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(I wake up disappointed every time.) |
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If the weather ever withers up your vine |
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Jacob knows a ladder you can climb |
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If that old thorn is still buried in your side |
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Jacob knows a ladder you can climb. |
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Well if your pacific rivers all run dry |
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their clouds will fill my loud corrupted sky |
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and if the pleasures of your heavens ever end |
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that very ladder just as well descends. |
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If the weather ever withers up your vine |
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Jacob knows a ladder you can climb |
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If that old thorn is still buried in your side |
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Jacob knows a ladder you can climb. |
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Well if your pacific rivers all run dry |
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their clouds will fill my loud corrupted sky |
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and if the pleasures of your heavens ever end |
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that very ladder just as well descends. |