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I'll catch the tramline in the morning |
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With your leave Van Bushell said |
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He had further heard the cock crow |
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As he stumbled out the shed |
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Then blind Joseph came towards him |
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With a shotgun in his arms |
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He said you'll pay me twenty dollars |
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Before you leave my farm |
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Van Bushell saw the hook |
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Which replaced Joseph's hand |
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He said now calm you down my brother |
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Let's discuss this man to man |
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It's no good you getting angry |
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We must try to act our age |
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You're pursuing your convictions |
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Like some hermit in a cage |
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You're the son of your father |
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Try a little bit harder |
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Do for me as he would do for you |
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With blood and water bricks and mortar |
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He built for you a home |
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You're the son of your father |
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So treat me as your own |
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Well slowly Joseph well he lowered the rifle |
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And he emptied out the shells |
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Van Bushell he came towards him |
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He shook his arm and wished him well |
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He said now hey blind man that is fine |
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But I sure can't waste my time |
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So move aside and let me go my way |
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I've got a train to ride |
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Well Joseph turned around |
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His grin was now a frown |
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He said let me just refresh your mind |
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Your manners boy seem hard to find |
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Well there's two men lying dead as nails |
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On an East Virginia farm |
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For charity's an argument |
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That only leads to harm |
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So be careful when they're kind to you |
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Don't you end up in the dirt |
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Just remember what I'm saying to you |
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And you likely won't get hurt |