| As I write this letter to you, Darlin'
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| I can’t hold the teardrops from my eyes
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| For at sundown I will lay a-dyin'
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| At the door of the Fool’s Paradise
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| Rode into this cattle town this morning
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| Left my bearer to check the market price
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| And I walked into the nearest bar room
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| They call it the Fool’s Paradise
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| There the crowd was gay and girls were dancing
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| And the men were playing cards and dice
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| So I stepped up to the bar to join them
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| What a grand place, this Fool’s Paradise
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| It was then I showed to them your picture
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| I passed it around once or twice
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| Then a man insulted your sweet honour
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| At the bar of the Fool’s Paradise
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| So I slapped his face and I told him, I said
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| «You eat them words, Mister, or draw, that’s my advice»
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| And he said, «Well somebody might get hurt inside
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| But I’ll be glad to meet you in the street at sundown
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| At sundown in front of the Fool’s Paradise»
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| So goodbye my darlin', may God bless you
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| I go to make this sacrifice
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| And if ever you visit old Dodge City
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| Remember the Fool’s Paradise |