| I remember my Dad sayin' «Get up this morning, son»
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| Get your brother too, we’ve got to get some work done."
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| We’d dread the next 10 hours then to the fields we go
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| I’d cuss the mules as Dad was sayin', «son, stay between the rows.»
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| Back when times were good and times were bad
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| Daylight would fade and we’d always be glad
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| To get back to our pillows and dream of where we’d go
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| To find a better way, a little brighter day
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| Just to find the best times we’d ever had
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| Were out with Dad between the rows
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| My Dad worked the farm for sixty years before he died
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| And even before that day, I’d look at him and cry
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| Cause I knew he never had that much and probably never would
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| But now I see he had more than a man now ever could
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| Back when times were good and times were bad
|
| Daylight would fade and we’d always be glad
|
| To get back to our pillows and dream of where we’d go
|
| To find a better way, a little brighter day
|
| Just to find the best times we’d ever had
|
| Were out with Dad between the rows
|
| I remember my Dad sayin' «Get up this morning, son» |