| When I was young I used to see her
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| Herdin’her goats on a hillside
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| No one knows and she ain’t telling her age
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| I’d say she’s just about seventy five
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| She’s an old timer
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| Tryin’to hold on to what she’s got
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| They call her Goat Annie
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| I still remember the stories
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| The townspeople told to each other
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| Just because she liked her goats
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| better than people
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| They said the devil was her brother
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| She never paid them no mind
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| She just kept on bein’herself
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| Goat Annie
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| She’s real individual
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| One of a dying breed
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| Everything she’s got right now
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| Is all she’ll ever need
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| One day the government decided
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| They had to have the land she lived on They came with the papers
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| polite as could be They said she had just thirty days
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| to get gone
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| You could see them smirking
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| «We're just doin’our job here
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| You understand, Goat Annie»
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| She said 2I was born and raised here
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| Ain’t never done wrong to no one
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| You ain’t gonna throw me off my land,
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| not me or my goats or my shotgun"
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| Then she leveled her 12-guage
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| with a blast she sent’em packin'
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| Go, Goat Annie
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| Next day they came with the lawmen
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| But that didn’t get’em nowhere
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| Rather than shoot at a poor old lady
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| They decided to let her
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| live her days out there
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| It doesn’t happen very often
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| But there are still some people
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| with heart
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| Like Goat Annie |