| James, come on home.
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| You’ve been gone too long, baby.
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| We can’t let our hero
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| Die alone.
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| We miss you day and night.
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| You left town to live by the rifle.
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| You left us to fight,
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| But it just ain’t right to take away the light.
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| Remember Genie from the casino?
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| She’s still a-waiting in that big brass bed.
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| The boys from your gang are knocking whisky back,
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| 'Til they get out of hand and wish they were dead.
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| They’re only lonely for the life that they led
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| With their old friend.
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| Ooh, James, are you selling your soul to a cold gun?
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| Selling your soul to a Ooh, James, are you selling your soul to a cold gun?
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| Where lies your heart?
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| It’s not there in the buckskin, baby.
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| It’s not there in the gin
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| That makes you laugh long and loud.
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| You’re a coward, James.
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| You’re running away from humanity.
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| You’re running away from reality.
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| It won’t be funny when they rat-a-tat-tat you down.
|
| Remember Genie from the casino?
|
| She’s still a-waiting in that big brass bed.
|
| The boys from your gang are knocking whisky back,
|
| 'Til they get out of hand and wish they were dead.
|
| They’re only lonely for the life that they led
|
| With their old friend.
|
| Ooh, James, are you selling your soul to a cold gun?
|
| Selling your soul to a Ooh, James, are you selling your soul to a cold gun? |