| Old John Joseph was a man with two first names
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| They left him in the railroad yard when they took away the trains
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| And only one run a week comes on roaring down that line
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| So all he got to worry 'bout is time
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| I come by in the evening, to hear 'bout where he’s been
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| He says «Come on, sit down kid. |
| Where shall I begin?»
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| He starts tellin' me the stories of the glories of his past
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| But he always saves the story of his Corey for the last
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| And he says my Corey’s coming
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| No more sad stories, coming
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| My midnight, moonlight, morning glory’s coming, aren’t ya girl?
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| And like I told you, when she holds you, she enfolds you in her world
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| I was quite surprised to find out all the places that he knew
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| And so I asked the towns folk if his stories were true
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| «Well,» they said, «old John was born here, he’s lived here all his life
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| He’s never had a woman, let alone a wife
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| And very soon you’ll find out, as you check around
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| That no one named Corey’s ever lived in this town
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| So I chided the old man 'bout the truth that i had heard
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| But he smiled and said, «Reality is only just a word.»
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| Can’t you see my Corey’s coming
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| No more sad stories, coming
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| My midnight, moonlight, morning glory’s coming, aren’t ya girl?
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| And like I told you, when she holds you, she enfolds you in her world
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| I came by one evening, but he did not hear my shout
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| I looked in the window and I saw the fire was out
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| When he would not wake up, I forced in the door
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| And I saw that old John Joseph would tell stories no more
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| The scene at the graveyard, just three of us were there
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| Me and the grave digger, we heard the parson’s prayer
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| He said, «We need not grieve for this man, for we know that God cared.»
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| They put the cold dirt over him, and left me on my own
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| And when at last I looked up, I saw I was not alone
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| So I said, «If you’re a relative, he had a peaceful end.»
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| That’s when she said, «My name is Corey, you can say I’m just a friend.»
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| Corey’s coming
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| No more sad stories, coming
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| My midnight, moonlight, morning glory’s coming, aren’t ya girl?
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| And like I told you, when she holds you, she enfolds you in her world
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| So that’s the old man’s story, I’m glad you came tonight
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| You see a busted down old railroad yard sure makes a lonely sight
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| You may wonder why a young man would work out here alone
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| Well the job pays enough to keep some flesh on my bones
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| And, I confess, I get to missing the old man a bit
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| And theres one other reason, I guess I could admit
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| Can’t you see my Corey’s coming
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| No more sad stories, coming
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| My midnight, moonlight, morning glory’s coming, aren’t ya girl?
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| And like he told me, when she holds me, she enfolds me in her world |