| Op Sam Brown was a lonesome convict
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| He come from a Red River town
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| There ain’t no two ways about it
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| It was Texas law that shot Sam down
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| Ol' Sam Brown told me his story
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| It seems a bad check writer was he
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| Seven times down and seven times sorry
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| He had to spend his life under lock and key
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| I guess that some will say
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| He was worthless
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| And that he got only what was fair
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| But I’m here to say right now
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| Ol' Sam Brown was just a little person
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| Who caught up in this lifes
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| Great pull and tear
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| Ol' Sam Brown, he liked them outlaws
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| Billie the Kid, Frank and Jessie James
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| And I guess he read a thousand stories
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| Of the days when they roamed the plains
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| Tell me why didn’t someone
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| Help him
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| To belive in himself
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| Some, too
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| Hell no, they’d rather give a man
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| About a hundred years
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| Just to prove they can be
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| Tougher than you
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| Ol' Sam Brown died on a Sunday morning
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| Layin' right there in that cement cell
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| Whith ragged convicts to mourn his passin'
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| And no loved ones to bid farewell
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| They used to tell him
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| Sam — straighten up
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| And fly right
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| They used to tell him
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| Sam — don’t you stay out
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| Late at at night
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| And why …
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| Can’t you be like I am, Sam
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| Will you ever see the light? |