| Thought I’d sing to the river
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| Just cheer her on her way
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| She’s a blue old girl
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| That no one cares to travel on these days
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| I know some say she’s lazy
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| She was fast enough before
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| Half of every cotton crop
|
| Came floating past my door
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| And there used to be a dance hall
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| When the gambling boat still ran
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| The air was full of lamp light
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| And the sound of dixieland
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| But the river men are gone now
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| She’s a melancholy girl
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| She never sees the delta queen
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| Or the Alabama pearl
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| And she looks like she’s lonely
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| As she tumbles to the sea
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| She’s headed down to Mexico
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| To find some company
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| Well the only time I cursed her
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| Was the spring of '65
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| She rolled across my bean field
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| Looking more than ten miles wide
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| Well I shoulda seen it comin'
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| As it does from time to time
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| Women’s gonna make a fuss
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| When no one pays her any mind
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| So thought I’d sing to the river
|
| Just cheer her on her way
|
| She’s a blue old girl
|
| That no one cares to travel on these days
|
| She’s a blue old girl
|
| That no one cares
|
| To travel on these days |