| Gone are the days when the ox fall down
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| Take up the yoke and plow the fields around
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| Gone are the days when the ladies said «Please
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| Gentle Jack Jones, won’t you come to me»
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| Brown-eyed women and red grenadine
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| The bottle was dusty but the liquor was clean
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| Sound of the thunder with the rain pourin' down
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| And it looks like the old man’s gettin' on
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| 1920 when he steppd to the bar
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| Drank to the dregs of th whiskey jar
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| 1930 when the wall caved in
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| He made his way selling red-eyed gin
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| Brown-eyed women and red grenadine
|
| The bottle was dusty but the liquor was clean
|
| Sound of the thunder with the rain pourin' down
|
| And it looks like the old man’s gettin' on |