| Just a ragged kid in overalls
|
| He thumbed a ride one day
|
| He said, «Anywhere you’re headed on my way.»
|
| But as we passed by Big Al’s drive-in
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| His eyes began to flash
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| He was leavin' Rapid City mighty fast
|
| He said, «I hope to God she finds
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| The good-bye letter that I wrote her
|
| But the mail don’t move to fast
|
| In Rapid City, South Dakota.»
|
| --- Instrumental ---
|
| Well, he left her just a blanket
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| Of snow upon the farm
|
| And that don’t keep your conscience very warm
|
| He said his friends were too durn country
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| And his pa was too damn mean
|
| And there ain’t no money pumpin' gasoline
|
| And her gentle eyes, the merchandise
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| Of dreams the peddler sold her
|
| As he left her there in Rapid City, South Dakota
|
| Now the reason he was goin'
|
| I ain’t sure I could say
|
| Might’ve been the rodeo in Santa F'
|
| «There's a doctor in chicago
|
| I know she’ll be all right.»
|
| He told himself as he stared into the night
|
| And he said, «I hope to God she finds
|
| The good-bye letter that I wrote her
|
| But the mail don’t move so fast
|
| In Rapid City, South Dakota.» |
| And all her people treatin' her
|
| Just like they never knowed her
|
| Lord, the winter’s passin' slow
|
| In Rapid City, South Dakota |