| Oh, fare thee well, my darling true
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| I’m leavin', the first hour of morn'
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| I’m bound off for the Bay of Mexico
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| Or maybe the Coast of Californ'
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| So, fare thee well, my own true love
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| We’ll meet another day, another time
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| It’s not the leavin' that’s grieving me
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| But my true love, who’s bound to stay behind
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| The weather is against me and the wind blows hard
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| The rain is turnin' into hail
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| I still might strike it lucky on a highway goin' west
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| Though I’m travelin on a lonesome trail
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| So, fare thee well, my own true love
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| We’ll meet another day, another time
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| It’s not the leavin' that’s grieving me
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| But my true love, who’s bound to stay behind
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| I’ll tell you of the laughter and the troubles
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| Either somebody else’s or my own
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| With my hands in my pockets and my coat collar high
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| I’ll travel unnoticed and unknown
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| So, fare thee well, my own true love
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| We’ll meet another day, another time
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| It’s not the leavin' that’s grieving me
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| But my true love, who’s bound to stay behind
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| I’ve heard, tell of a town, where I might as well be bound
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| Down around the Mexican plains
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| They say that the people all are friendly there
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| All they ask of you is your name
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| So, fare the well, my own true love
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| We’ll meet another day, another time
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| It’s not the leavin' that’s grieving me
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| But my true love, who’s bound to stay behind |