| Here’s a tale of Tom
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| Who worked the railroads long
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| His wife would cook his meal
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| As he would change the wheel
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| Poor Tom, Seventh Son, Always knew what’s goin on Ain’t a thing that you can hide from Tom
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| There ain’t nothing that you can hide from Tom
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| Worked for thirty years
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| Sharing hopes and fears
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| Dreamin’of the day
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| He could turn and say
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| Poor Tom, work’s done, been lazin’out in the noonday sun
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| Ain’t a thing that you can hide from Tom
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| His wife was Annie Mae
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| With any man a game she’d play
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| When Tom was out of town
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| She couldn’t keep her dress down
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| Poor Tom, Seventh Son, always knew what’s goin on Ain’t a thing that you can hide from Tom
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| And so it was one day
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| People got to Annie Mae (?)
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| Tom stood, a gun in his hand
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| And stopped her runnin’around
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| Poor Tom, Seventh Son, gotta die for what you’ve done
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| All those years of work are thrown away
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| To ease your mind is that all you can say?
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| But what about that grandson on your knee?
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| Them railroad songs, Tom would sing to me Ain’t nothing that you can hide from Tom
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| Keep-a Truckin' |