| Gypsy woman
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| Come inside now
|
| And take a load off your feet
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| You’ve been pounding the pavement
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| Ain’t told a fortune in weeks
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| She spends here money on tequila
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| She says it keeps her warm
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| They call her many things but her name’s Cecilia
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| Now don’t you know, now don’t you know
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| Hey hey hey hey Cecilia
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| Don’t you know the streets will kill ya
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| Don’t you know your mama misses ya
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| Don’t you know don’t you know
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| Gypsy woman
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| Say she don’t need ya
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| And asks for a ride to the liquor store
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| She kills the bottle
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| Gives praise to Jesus
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| Then passes out on your living room floor
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| She tells the story of a shotgun wedding
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| And a birth of a stillborn child
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| She was only 13 and her little body wasn’t ready
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| Babies watching babies die
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| Hey hey hey hey Cecilia
|
| Don’t you know the streets will kill ya
|
| Don’t you know your mama misses ya
|
| Don’t you know don’t you know
|
| Hey hey hey hey Cecilia
|
| I have seen the beauty in ya
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| Don’t you know you’re one in a million
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| Don’t you know don’t you know
|
| Hey hey hey hey Cecilia
|
| Don’t you know the streets will kill ya
|
| Don’t you know your mama misses ya
|
| Don’t you know don’t you know
|
| Hey hey hey hey Cecilia
|
| I have seen the beauty in ya
|
| Don’t you know you’re one in a million
|
| Don’t you know don’t you know |