| We were all down at Margie’s bar
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| Telling stories if we had one
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| Someone fired the old jukebox up
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| The song sure was a sad one
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| A teardrop rolled down Bubba’s nose
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| From the pain the song was inflicting
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| And all at once he jumped to his feet
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| Just like somebody kicked him
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| Bubba shot the juke box last night
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| Said it played a sad song it made him cry
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| Went to his truck and got a forty five
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| Bubba shot the juke box last night
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| Bubba ain’t never been accused of being mentality stable
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| So we did not draw an easy breath
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| Until he laid that colt on the table
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| He hung his head till the cops showed up
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| They dragged him right out of Margie’s
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| Told him «Don't you play dumb with us, son»
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| «Know damn well what the charge is.»
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| Bubba shot the juke box last night
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| Said it played a sad song it made him cry
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| Went to his truck and got a forty five
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| Well, he shot the juke box last night
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| Well, the sheriff arrived with his bathrobe on
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| The confrontation was a tense one
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| Shook his head and said, «Bubba Boy,»
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| «You was always a dense one.»
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| Reckless discharge of a gun
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| That’s what the officers are claiming
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| Bubba hollered, «Reckless! |
| Hell!»
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| «I hit just where I was aiming.»
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| Bubba shot the juke box last night
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| Said it played a sad song it made him cry
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| Went to his truck and got a forty five
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| Well, he shot the juke box stopped it with one shot
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| Bubba shot the jukebox last night
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| Well, he could not tell right from wrong
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| Through the teardrops in his eyes
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| Beyond a shadow of a doubt
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| It was justifiable homicide
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| Bubba shot the juke box stopped it with one shot
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| Bubba shot the jukebox last night |