| Comfort me said she
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| With your conversation
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| With the cocktails
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| And the candlelight
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| In your eyes
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| It’s funny how we hunger
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| For some inspiration
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| And everything else
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| That money just won’t buy
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| Men have lied
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| Many good girls have gone astray
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| Just to hear the gypsy play
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| One more lilting cowboy tune
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| And as the rivers run dry
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| And the mountains blow away
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| They sing of lovers and how they lay
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| Beneath this crazy frontier moon
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| I ain’t no golden boy
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| I ain’t no Grecian dancer
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| And I ain’t no loudmouthed cowboy
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| From the West
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| I’m not the kind of man
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| With all the answers
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| But I surely know the songs
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| That suit me best
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| But lately I’ve had something on my mind
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| It’s growing stronger all the time
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| Calling out when I’m alone
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| But I’m a poet
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| And I’m bound to walk the line
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| Between the real and the sublime
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| And give the muses back their own
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| It’s a penny for your thoughts
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| It’s a dollar for you kisses
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| Keep a running tab on the time
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| 'Cause what I’ve got the most of
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| Is what she misses
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| The clock is hers
|
| The hourglass is mine
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| But I’m her lover
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| Not a man bent on revenge
|
| Hanging out here on the fringe
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| Of my native borderlands
|
| Counting the days
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| The sun shone golden across her head
|
| Lying on the banks of the bayou’s edge
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| Kicking up some Southeast Texas sand |