| They got the farmhouse burning, watched it burn to the ground
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| Smoke filled the horizon just two miles from town
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| There was no need to worry, there was no one who’d care
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| It was a dog den where good men were rare
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| With the wheels on the highway through the cold autumn rain
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| Out came the pistols and a book full of names
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| Thumbing each one who’d sing out the words
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| Facing hard time is an old junkie curse
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| On down between the country
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| Where deer lay along the road
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| On down between the country
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| Where a long life is a blessed one, I’m told
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| When they caught up with Henry, he was out in his yard
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| Splitting that beechwood before the winter hit hard
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| Laid a bullet in his back, watched him drop like a rock
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| And come to rest 'cross that old chopping block
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| Anne Carol ran the uppers from the laundry downtown
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| Played online poker when there was no one around
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| And except for a few strays in the dead parking lot
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| Not a soul heard the thud or the shot
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| On down between the country
|
| Where deer lay along the road
|
| On down between the country
|
| Where a long life is a blessed one, I’m told |