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Voici une histoire |
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D'un homme cajun |
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Amadie Adouin |
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Etat son nom |
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Avec sa guitare |
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Et avec sa voix |
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Amadie Adouin |
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Etait le roi |
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Here is the story |
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Of a Cajun man |
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Amadie Adouin |
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Was his name |
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With his guitar |
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And his voice |
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Amadie Adouin |
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Was the king |
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In a town seperated by railroad tracks |
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When one side's white the other side must be black |
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La sueur brulait |
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Dans ses yeux |
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Les blancs ont crie |
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N' arrete pas |
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Quand Amadie pouvait |
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plus jouer |
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Il demandait a Celine |
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Son mouchoir |
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(The sweat burnt |
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In his eyes |
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The whites shouted |
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Don't stop |
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When Amadie couldn't |
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Play anymore |
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He asked to Celine |
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His handerchief) |
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Black were the tears Amadie Adouin cried |
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Tears a white handkerchief just could not hide |
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Les bois d'Arcadia |
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Ils sont morts |
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Au fond de la terre |
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Amadie s'endort |
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Mais si vous voulez |
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Ecouter sa voix |
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Demande aux Ricains |
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De la chercher d'en bas |
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(The forest of Arcadia |
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Is dead |
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Deep under the ground |
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Amadie falls asleep |
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But if you want to listen |
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To his voice |
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Ask the Yanks |
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To look for it from the bottom) |
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They ran right over Amadie's vocal cords |
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Good old boys in a good ol' Model T Ford |
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Amadie took a walk by the railroad track |
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To the other side and he won't be coming back |
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They ran right over Amadie's vocal cords |
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Those good old boys in a good old Model T Ford |
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Amadie took a walk by the railroad track |
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To the other side and he won't be coming back |