| Off of the shrimp boat, boy what a day
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| Venice just ain’t no place to play
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| I guess I’m headed up Breaux Bridge way
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| To see my brown Angelina
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| I took her out to the Cajun Inn
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| To see Jolet, my very best friend
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| And we got drunk and broke up the bar
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| For my brown Angelina
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| Mama, mama … won’t you go my bail?
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| Sittin' on my cold, dead ass
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| On the floor of the Breaux Bridge jail
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| Mama, mama … won’t you go my bail?
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| Sittin' on my cold, dead ass
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| On the floor of the Breaux Bridge jail
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| The sheriff, he came in … mean as a bear
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| And gave me that empty, dead man’s stare
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| He grabbed Jolet and me by the hair
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| And broke up our little party
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| He chauffeured us in his po-lice car
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| With the lights a flashin' like a blood red star
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| And he left us sittin' here where we are
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| To take home brown Angelina
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| Mama, mama … won’t you go my bail?
|
| Sittin' on my cold, dead ass
|
| On the floor of the Breaux Bridge jail
|
| Mama, mama … won’t you go my bail?
|
| Sittin' on my cold, dead ass
|
| On the floor of the Breaux Bridge jail |