| First, Mama Papa call a little boy 'Ned'
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| Raise him on the banks of the riverbed
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| In a houseboat tied to a big tall tree
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| Home for my mama and my papa and me
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| Half-past three, Papa jumps to his feet
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| Already Mama cooking Papa somethin' to eat
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| Half-past five, Papa’s ready to go
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| Jumps in his hero, headed down the bayou
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| Got fishin' lines running 'cross the Louisiana River
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| Gonna catch a big fish for us to eat
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| Settin' traps in the swamp, catchin' everything they can
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| Gonna make a livin', he’s a Lousiana man
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| Gonna make a livin', he’s a Lousiana man
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| Muskrat hides hangin' by the dozen
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| Even got a little baby muskrat cousin
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| Got 'em out dryin' in the hot, hot sun
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| Tomorrow, Papa’s gonna turn 'em into money
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| I can hardly wait until the mornin' comes around
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| That’s the day my Papa taked the furs to town
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| Last time he told me that I could go
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| Maybe even catch a cowboy show
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| Saw cowboys and Indians for the first time then
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| Told my Papa: Got to come back again
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| Papa said: Son, we got lines to run
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| We’ll come back again; |
| there’s work to be done |