| Where the river keeps on rollin', time marches on
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| The sun hides in the shadows, you know where you belong
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| You walk in the silence readin' names on the stones
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| You can roll with the tide, but you can’t hide
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| From the ghost of Macon Jones
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| Well they always came to church, sat up in the back
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| Drank the holy water, dapper dressed in black
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| Away from the rich folk where they let down his bones
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| Now they whisper at the sermons
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| They can hear the ghost of Macon Jones
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| From the time he was a child, it was easy to make friends
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| Some swore they found, right up to the end
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| When he jumped off that bridge they just watched and went back home
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| They all cried to their mommas that they saw
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| The ghost of Macon Jones
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| In the nights, right along
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| In your fight, just stay strong
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| In the ill-fated wind, just go
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| Yeah you need to unlearn, what you’ve been told
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| No one knows what happened, 'cause the truth will often lie
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| Widows swear he loved 'em, he was born to make them cry
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| Sometimes a man believes he’s destined to go at this life alone
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| If you head down that cold river you’ll feel
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| The ghost of Macon Jones
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| Some say he died, with a smile on his face
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| Others say he cried, he never found his place
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| If you listen to your fears you might hear his restless moan
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| When they start digging up your dirt
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| You’ll meet the ghost of Macon Jones
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| If you see your reflection on the water
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| That’s the ghost of Macon Jones |