| She said «I've been the stockyard’s pony»
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| She said «I've been the mountain engine’s roll
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| From Chicago to West Virginia
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| I’ve been as lonesome as the world’s first ghost
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| As lonesome as the world’s first ghost
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| But out here even the prairie doubts the horizon
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| All I have to do is prove that I’m not pure
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| Oh, the right words come
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| But I ain’t talking
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| The devil’s mean but he’s honest just as sure
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| Oh, he is honest just as sure"
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| Oh Grace, if you stop believing
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| That don’t mean that it just goes away
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| It’s a long way between horizons
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| And it gets farther every day
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| Ohhhhh, Grace
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| Woooooah, Grace
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| Oh Grace, if you stop believing
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| That don’t mean it just goes away
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| It’s a long way between horizons
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| And it gets farther every day
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| Ohhhhh, Grace
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| Woooooah, Grace
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| She says «But I know a man whose heart is restless
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| He’s never home, and he’s never gone
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| And he had some good things
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| But he lost them
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| Like everything he ever set his heart on
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| Oh, that he set that heart upon
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| Oh boy, if you stop believing
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| That don’t mean that I just walked away
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| It’s a long way between horizons
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| And it gets farther everyday"
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| Oh, Grace
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| Oooooh, Grace |