| Old boy he ran a little stop sign in the south
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| And he got in deeper trouble with his mouth
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| They wouldn’t let him phone or make a bail
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| Just let him sit there in that Delford County jail
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| It wuden’t me, it wuden’t me
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| I’m so glad it wuden’t me
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| No phone, no bail, no plea
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| Oh, I’m so glad it wuden’t me
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| He had to break out of that Delford County jail
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| They put a Grand Dragon posse on his trail
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| And seven Alabama bloodhounds in a line
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| Buckin' and barkin' for a bite of his behind
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| It wuden’t me, it wuden’t me
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| I’m so glad it wuden’t me
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| Hung posses ain’t my cup o’tea
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| Oh, I’m so glad it wuden’t me
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| He was streakin' through the Delta double three
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| But them hungry hounds was gainin’on his lee
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| His feet was playin' «Louisiana Bound»
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| Lord, you help me pick 'em up, I’ll put 'em down (Amen)
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| It wuden’t me, it wuden’t me
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| I’m so glad it wuden’t me
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| Prayin' ain’t no sure guarantee
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| Oh, I’m so glad it wuden’t me
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| He was streakin' through the Delta, stridin' wide
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| But that leadin' hound was meters from his hide
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| Lord, bless my feet, don’t let 'em go corrupt
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| I’ll lay 'em down as fast as you can pick 'em up
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| It wuden’t me, it wuden’t me
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| I’m so glad it wuden’t me
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| Just meters from a canine jubilee
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| Oh, I’m so glad it wuden’t me
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| He reached a highway through the ticket on the side
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| And a trucker came along and let him ride
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| But as he settled down to thank him for no harm
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| He saw a swasti-KKK band on his arm
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| That’s when he knew he had to get on help his self
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| 'Stead if sittin' pinnin' it on somebody else
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| He hung a left into that thicket 'cross the fence
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| And ain’t nobody ever sawed or seen him since
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| It wuden’t me, it wuden’t me
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| I’m so glad it wuden’t me
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| It ain’t quite my kinda cup o’tea
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| Jeez, I’m glad it wuden’t me
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| It wuden’t me, it was not me
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| I’m so glad it wuden’t me
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| It just ain’t my kinda cup o’tea
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| Jeez, am I glad it wuden’t me |