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I remember it all very well lookin' back |
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It was the summer that I turned eighteen |
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We lived in a one-room, run down shack |
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On the outskirts of New Orleans |
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We didn't have money for food or rent |
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To say the least we were hard-pressed |
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When momma spent every last penny we had |
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To buy me a dancin' dress |
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Momma washed and combed and curled my hair |
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Then she painted my eyes and lips |
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And then I stepped into the satin dancin' dress |
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It was split in the side, clean up to my hips |
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It was red, velvet-trimmed and it fit me good |
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And standin' back from the lookin' glass |
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Was a woman |
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Where a half grown kid had stood |
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"Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down |
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Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down |
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Lord forgive me for what I do |
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But if you want out, well, it's up to you |
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Now don't let me down, your momma's gonna help you move uptown" |
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Momma dabbed a little bit of perfume |
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On my neck and she kissed my cheek |
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Then I saw the tears welling up |
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In her troubled eyes when she started to speak |
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She looked at our pitiful shack and then |
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She looked at me and took a ragged breath |
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" Your Pa's runned off and I'm real sick |
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And the baby's gonna starve to death" |
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She handed me a heart-shaped locket that said |
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"To thine own self be true" |
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And I shivered as I watched a roach crawl across |
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The toe of my high-healed shoe |
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It sounded like somebody else it was talkin' |
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Askin', "Momma what do I do?" |
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"Just be nice to the gentlemen, Fancy, and |
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they'll be nice to you" |
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"Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down |
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Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down |
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Lord forgive me for what I do |
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But if you want out, well, it's up to you |
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Now get on now, girl, you better start movin' uptown" |
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Well that was the last time I saw my momma |
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Then I left that rickety shack |
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Cause the welfare people came and took the baby |
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Momma died and I ain't been back |
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But the wheels of fate had started to turn |
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And for me there was no way out |
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It wasn't very long after that I knew exactly |
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What my momma been talkin' about |
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I knew what I had to do |
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But I made myself a solemn vow |
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But I was gonna to be a lady someday |
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Though I didn't know when or how |
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I couldn't see spendin' the rest of my life |
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With my head hung down in shame |
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I mighta been born just plain white trash |
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But Fancy was my name |
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"Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down |
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Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down" |
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It wasn't long after that a benevolent man |
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Took me in off the streets |
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One week later I was pourin' his tea |
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In a five roomed hotel suite |
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I've charmed a king, a congressman |
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And an occasional aristocrat |
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And it got me a Georgia mansion |
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And an elegant New York townhouse flat |
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And I ain't done bad |
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Now in this world there's a lot of self-righteous |
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Hypocrites that would call me bad |
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They criticize ma momma for turning me out |
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No matter how little we had |
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And though I haven't had to worry 'bout nothin' |
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Now for nigh on fifteen years |
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But I can still hear the desperation |
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In my poor mommas voice ringin' in my ears |
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"Here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down |
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here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down |
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Lord forgive me for what I do |
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But if you want out, well, it's up to you |
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Now don't let me down, your momma's gonna help you move uptown" |
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And I guess she did |