| There’s a man who walks beside me he is who I used to be
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| And I wonder if she sees him and confuses him with me
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| And I wonder who she’s pining for on nights I’m not around
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| Could it be the man who did the things I’m living down
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| I was rougher than the timber shipping out of Fond du Lac
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| When I headed south at seventeen, the sheriff on my back
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| I’d never held a lover in my arms or in my gaze
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| So I found another victim every couple days
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| But the night I fell in love with her, I made my weakness known
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| To the fighters and the farmers digging dusty fields alone
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| The jealous innuendos of the lonely-hearted men
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| Let me know what kind of country I was sleeping in
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| Well you couldn’t stay a loner on the plains before the war
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| When my neighbors took to slightin' me, I had to ask what for
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| Rumors of my wickedness had reached our little town
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| Soon she’d heard about the boys I used to hang around
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| We’d robbed a great-lakes freighter, killed a couple men aboard
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| When I told her, her eyes flickered like the sharp steel of a sword
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| All the things that she’d suspected, I’d expected her to fear
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| Was the truth that drew her to me when I landed here
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| There’s a man who walks beside me he is who I used to be
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| And I wonder if she sees him and confuses him with me
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| And I wonder who she’s pining for on nights I’m not around
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| Could it be the man who did the things I’m living down
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| Well I carved her cross from live oak and her box from short-leaf pine
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| And buried her so deep, she’d touch the water table line
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| And picked up what I needed and I headed south again
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| To myself, I wondered, «Would I ever find another friend»
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| There’s a man who walks beside her, he is who I used to be
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| And I wonder if she sees him and confuses him with me |