| Well I came up to the great big city
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| When I was only seventeen
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| Got me a job in a big skyscraper
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| Helping to keep the place clean
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| I tried to save all my money
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| To bring you here someday
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| The neon lights burned holes in my pockets
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| And the money just slipped away
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| Now my sweet Johanna
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| I’m hitchin' on back down to Louisiana
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| Back where I started
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| And I’m poorer than the day I went away
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| Oh, my sweet Johanna
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| I’m coming on home to Louisiana
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| Back where I started
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| 'Cause you might want to live
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| In New York City anyway
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| I went on down to the bar on the corner
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| To have myself a beer
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| «Sweet young hoss, now what about these»
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| I heard it in my ear
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| I had not heard a friendly word
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| In seven months or more
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| So I had to defend my lady friend
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| When somebody called her a whore
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| Now now my sweet Johanna
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| I’m hitchin' a ride back to Louisiana
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| Back where I started
|
| And I’m poorer than the day I went away
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| Now my sweet Johanna
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| I’m hitchin' a ride back to Louisiana
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| Just to tell you that
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| You might like to live
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| In New York City anyway
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| Well we all went out to the alley
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| But I woke up all alone
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| An empty wallet, an ache in my head
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| And no place to call home
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| Now my sweet Johanna
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| You know I’m hitchin' a ride back to Louisiana
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| Just to tell you that
|
| And I’m poorer than the day I went away
|
| Oh, my sweet Johanna
|
| I’m coming on back home to Louisiana
|
| Just to tell you that
|
| You might want to live
|
| In New York City anyway
|
| Hitchin' on back to Louisiana
|
| Back where I started
|
| And I’m poorer than the day I went away
|
| Oh, my sweet Johanna
|
| I’m coming on back home to Louisiana
|
| Just to tell you that
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| You might like to live
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| In New York City anyway |