| Steam rising off of the river at the break of day
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| Light creeping into room 218 at the Beaujolais
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| Left you crawling across the floor
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| Head ringing, your eyes so sore
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| Bloodshot, drowning while you down another bottle away
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| The ashtray is overflowing, it’s full of gray days
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| The devil that you knew one time may be the devil you save
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| Get up and find your shoes
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| There are some things that you just don’t lose
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| The street’s been a-creeping with the barefooting blues for days
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| Call me from the Second Line
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| Pour us up some cheap French wine
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| Pick up your feet, leave your blues fading to gray
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| Come on now cut your soul loose, the Second Line’s dancing away
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| There’s a crowd down under the window in a big parade
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| They got a brass band dancing in front, oh umbrellas they wave
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| They gonna shake it 'til the sun come down
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| They just laid old Moses deep in the ground
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| Get yourself together, walk yourself right out of your grave
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| Call me from the Second Line
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| Pour us up some cheap French wine
|
| Pick up your feet, leave your blues fading to gray
|
| Yeah, you got to rise up and put on your hat
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| You ain’t good but you ain’t that bad
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| The dirge is over, the band’s just beginning to play
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| Come on now cut your soul loose, the Second Line’s dancing away
|
| Come on now cut your soul loose, the Second Line’s dancing away
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| The Second Line’s dancing away
|
| The Second Line’s dancing away
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| The Second Line’s dancing away
|
| The Second Line’s dancing away
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| The Second Line’s dancing away
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| The Second Line’s dancing away |