| My tender parents brought me up
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| Provided for me well
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| Twas in the city of Lanson Town
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| They placed me in a mill
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| It was there I spied a pretty fair miss
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| On whom I cast my eye
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| I asked her if she’d marry me
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| And she believed a lie
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| Three weeks ago last Saturday night
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| Of course it was the day
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| The devil put it in my mind
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| To take her life away
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| I went into her sisters house
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| At eight o’clock one night
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| But little did the sister? |
| think
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| On her I had my spite
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| I asked her if she’d take a walk
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| With me a little ways
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| That she and I might have a talk
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| About our wedding day
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| We walked along until we came
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| To my little desert place
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| I grabbed a stick off of the fence
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| And struck her in the face
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| I run my fingers through her coal black hair
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| To cover up my sin
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| I drug her to the river side
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| And there I plunged her in
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| I started back unto my mill
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| I met my servant John
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| He asked me why I was so pale
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| And it so very warm
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| Come all young men and warning take
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| Unto your lovers be true
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| And never let the devil get
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| The upper hand of you
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| I met my servant John |