| Come all you good time people
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| While I ve got money to spend
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| Tomorrow might be monday
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| And I never have a dollar nor a friend
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| When I had plenty of money, good people
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| All my friends would gather around
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| Just soon as my pocket book was empty
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| Not a friend on earth could be found
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| The last time I saw my little woman, good people
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| Had a wine glass in her hand
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| She’s drinking away all her troubles
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| With a lowdown sorry man
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| My papa taught me a plenty, good people
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| My mama taught me more
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| If I don’t quit my lowdown rowdy ways
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| I m gonna have more trouble at my door
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| I wrote my woman a letter, good people
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| And I told her I was in jail
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| She wrote me back an answer
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| Said now honey I m soon come and go your bail
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| All around this old jail house is haunted, good people
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| Forty dollars won’t pay my fine
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| Corn liquor surrounds my body
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| And pretty women aching my mind
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| If I would’ve listened to my mama, good people
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| I wouldn’t have been here today
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| Drinking and shooting and gambling
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| At home I could not stay
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| Dig a hole, dig a hole in the meadow
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| Dig a hole in the ground
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| When I m dead and buried, my pale face turned toward the sun
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| You can come and see the way you have done
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| Give me corn bread when I m hungry, good people
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| Corn whisky when I m dry
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| Pretty women surrounding my body
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| And bring me heaven when I die |