| Someone needs to take a rusty Bowie knife to you--
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| From your groin to your chest-bone, spill the truth.
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| That way you might touch your inside like I has to,
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| Like you always make me do.
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| And someone spaded Jesus Christ through skin, meat and bone.
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| The iron from the spikes, it starts at rustin',
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| The iron from his blood, it adds to that rustin'.
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| His blood rolls down the hill and pools up in the cotton field,
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| Well the cotton, it be twice growin.'
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| And it is cherished for its red red hue,
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| And it is marveled for its stiffness,
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| And it is revered for its twice growin,'
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| Berthed from the earth, thrown back into the earth
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| Spat back out the mool
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| It twice growing--like Jesus Christ will,
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| To return like Jesus Christ.
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| And centuries has passed and I met you,
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| And you love me, Christ girl, you know how much you love me.
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| And someone made for us this old wedding sheet,
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| One side of the sheet, well it be the man side,
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| The other side of the sheet, well it be the woman side.
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| I fit myself into the pre-made hole in this wedding sheet,
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| When I lay down on top of you.
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| And someone says I am hard--
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| But I’m never hard enough for you.
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| Especially when you take your sewing needle
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| And scratch a mark on your wrist,
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| Especially when you take your sewing needle
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| And scratch a mark on your ankles,
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| Especially when you take your sewing needle
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| And close up that hole in our sheet,
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| Then you use this sheet to wipe away your inside
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| And now our sheet, it’s got a red red hue,
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| And now our sheet, it’s got this stiffness,
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| And now our sheet is going twice growing,
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| The iron from your inside, it re-opened up that hole,
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| Yes it did rust it--your blood did rust it,
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| Your iron did rust it Your iron is rusted
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| And everything is rusted
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| And everything is rusted
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| And everything’s been rusted
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| And everything will rust for you as well. |