| Oh, come hear a story a stranger just told me
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| Of a woman who meant everything
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| So proud he once owned her but he has her no longer
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| For she wears another man’s ring
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| He talked of the good time they’d had in the springtime
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| Before she was stolen away
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| He blamed her oh no none he said she was too young
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| And that’s why she wanted to stray
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| We drank to her new love that it might be true love
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| Her future both happy and bright
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| With his eyes growing misty he drank down the whiskey
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| That was telling his story that night
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| And though he didn’t even know me he told me all of his story
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| And not one single word did he say without pride
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| And then he asked me if I blamed her but oh when he named her
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| I wanted to run out and hide
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| How could I tell him the man that had dealt him
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| His sadness and sorrow was me
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| I ran from the table while I was still able
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| To hold back my own misery
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| And now a wonder comes to me that maybe he knew me
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| And he told me just so I’d cry
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| But without his knowing my teardrops were flowing
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| For she had just told me goodbye |