| It’s white trash Sunday
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| On the farm
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| I see the telephone wires
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| The way they go and go into the distance
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| And I hear the cars passing by
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| And the wicked tree branches reaching out
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| They try to catch the moon
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| With their long black nails
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| Try to catch a dream passing by
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| Like a cloud in the sky
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| Oh, I see an orange cat
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| He always runs away at night
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| And a fox in the field, what’s the deal
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| I’m walking long the tracks
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| Where the mighty tractor has passed
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| Looks like the spine of a dinosaur back
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| I bet he was big and black
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| Oh I bet he was big, big and black
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| Gave all the others a heart attack
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| Oh it’s hard being big and black
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| He gave all the creatures a heart attack
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| Oh, it must be hard being big and black
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| Giving everyone a heart attack
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| They pull the pistols without second thoughts
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| And bam bam bam, he got shot… |