| If you ever leave, and I imagine you will
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| It’ll just be me and the whippoorwill —
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| Just we two, and the evening star
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| If you pack your suitcase and go get in your car
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| And drive down the road
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| In the mud or the dust, over to the river
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| KC or bust. |
| If you ever go, I’ll be here still
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| Getting annoyed at the whippoorwill
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| Getting annoyed, unable to sleep, the dust too dusty
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| Or the mud too deep. |
| I’ll follow your dust
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| Or I’ll follow your tracks over to the hard road
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| And I’ll bring you back
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| If you won’t come back, I’ll stay on your trail
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| Up through heaven, or down through hell
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| I’ll miss this old place, I’ll miss these old hills
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| But I sure won’t miss that whippoorwill
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| You are dearer to me than the birds or the stars
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| Sweeter to me than the hills and the flowers
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| Long as I have you I can take anything
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| So let love be home, and let the whippoorwill sing |