| Well the blues come to Texas, loping like a mule
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| You take a high brown woman, man she’s hard to fool
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| You can’t never tell, what a woman’s got on her mind
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| You might think she’s crazy about you, but she leaving
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| you all the time
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| Ain’t so good‑looking, your teeth don’t shine like
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| pearls
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| But that nice disposition, carry a woman all through the
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| world
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| I’m going to the river, going to carry my rocking chair
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| Going to ask that gal for a, how the worried blues
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| left here
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| I think I heard, my good gal call my name
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| She couldn’t call so loud, but she calls so nice and
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| plain
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| I was raised in Texas, schooled in Tennessee
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| High‑stepper you can’t make, no fatmouth out of me Can’t a woman act funny, quit you for another man
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| Can’t go look down the street, but she’s always raising
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| sand |