| Gone are the days when the ox fall down
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| Take up the yoke and plow the fields around
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| Gone are the days when the ladies said, «Please
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| Gentle Jack Jones, won’t you come home to me?»
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| Brown-eyed women and red grenadine
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| The bottle was dusty but the liquor was clean
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| Sound of the thunder with the rain pourin' down
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| And it looks like the old man’s gettin' on 1920 when he stepped to the bar
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| Drank to the dregs of the whiskey jar
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| 1930 when the wall caved in He made his way sellin' red-eyed gin
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| Brown-eyed women and red grenadine
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| The bottle was dusty but the liquor was clean
|
| Sound of the thunder with the rain pourin' down
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| And it looks like the old man’s gettin' on Delilah Jones was the mother of twins
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| Two times over and the rest were sins
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| Raised eight boys, only I turned bad
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| Didn’t get the lickin’s that the other ones had
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| Brown-eyed women and red grenadine
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| The bottle was dusty but the liquor was clean
|
| Sound of the thunder with the rain pourin' down
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| And it looks like the old man’s gettin' on Tumble down shack in Bigfoot County
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| Snowed so hard that the roof caved in Delilah Jones went to meet her God
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| And the old man never was the same again
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| Daddy made whiskey and he made it well
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| Cost two dollars and it burnt like hell
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| I cut hickory just to fire the still
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| Drink down a bottle and ready to kill
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| Brown-eyed women and red grenadine
|
| The bottle was dusty but the liquor was clean
|
| Sound of the thunder with the rain pourin' down
|
| And it looks like the old man’s gettin' on Gone are the days when the ox fall down
|
| Take up the yoke and plow the fields around
|
| Gone are the days when the ladies said, «Please
|
| Gentle Jack Jones, won’t you come home to me?»
|
| Brown-eyed women and red grenadine
|
| The bottle was dusty but the liquor was clean
|
| Sound of the thunder with the rain pourin' down
|
| And it looks like the old man’s gettin' on And it looks like the old man’s gettin' on |