| A trifling man came home one night
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| And tiptoed to his door
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| To his despair, his little wifie was there
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| Waitin' to lay down the law
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| Said she, «I'm thru, I’m really sick of you
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| Get out, stay out, and be on your way»
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| Well he dropped down on his knees
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| Cried «oh, please»
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| But this is all she had to say:
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| Get up, get up, off your knees papa
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| You can’t win me back that way
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| Turn in, turn in all your keys papa
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| You really goin' this time to stay
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| I discovered that you’re the worst man in this town
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| Looks like you’re fond of keepin' on going lower down
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| Get up, get up, off your knees papa
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| You can’t win me back that way
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| Get right up off your knees papa
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| I’m tellin' you, you can’t win me back that way
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| Turn in all your keys papa
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| Cause I put you out this time to stay
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| You’re so blamed crooked, here are blades
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| Looks like it’s a hard matter for you to keep your head up straight
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| So get up off your knees papa
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| You can’t win me back that way
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| Anyhow. |
| Stand up when you’re makin' your pleas
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| No use you wearin' out your knees
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| I heard someone say right next door
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| Look mighty strange down there on all fours
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| Stop it, down like that
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| What in the devil anyhow can you be drivin' at?
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| So get up and stay up off your knees papa
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| You can’t win me back that way
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| — Besides it looks suspicious —
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| And you can’t win me back that way |