| Half-mast land grants homesteading laws
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| past Dodge Summit toward Athabasca Falls
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| practicing our Avocets and Gnatcatcher calls
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| I laid down my guns where the soldierfish swam
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| & slept inside the shoe of the world’s tallest man
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| I saw Charlotte Corday with the knife in her hand
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| (It was nothing new)
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| I’ve perched on Steele Dakota’s sandhill crane
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| I flew among the Paiute before the Mormon rain
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| I was in Virginia City for the stringing up of Clubfoot Lane
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| but I’ve never seen anything like you.
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| All untied, by and by!
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| But I’d pour the matrimony wine
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| All untied, by and by!
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| so if you’re ever so inclined
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| (oh if you’re ever so inclined)
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| (oh if you’re ever so inclined)
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| while low in a lodgepole branch nearby
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| a lovesick Barnyard an amorous eye
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| What unprecedented gift does this afternoon provide?
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| What from the air now calls to water on the land?
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| What from my seclusion does this charlatan demand?
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| What to do now with my best-laid eremetic plans?
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| I’ve been to the Arfaks where the Sicklebills fly
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| seen Tangier’s acrobatics nine stories high
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| I was there at Appomattox back in '65
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| when the General arrived
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| but I’ve never been in this room before!
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| (aside)
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| All untied, by and by!
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| that same old dream’s trapped in my mind.
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| All untied, by and by!
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| I’m bound in ropes and on the firing line.
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| All untied, by and by!
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| well I wake up disappointed every time.
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| I wake up disappointed every time.
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| I wake up disappointed every time.
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| (I wake up disappointed every time.)
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| (I wake up disappointed every time.)
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| If the weather ever withers up your vine
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| Jacob knows a ladder you can climb
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| If that old thorn is still buried in your side
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| Jacob knows a ladder you can climb.
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| Well if your pacific rivers all run dry
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| their clouds will fill my loud corrupted sky
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| and if the pleasures of your heavens ever end
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| that very ladder just as well descends.
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| If the weather ever withers up your vine
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| Jacob knows a ladder you can climb
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| If that old thorn is still buried in your side
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| Jacob knows a ladder you can climb.
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| Well if your pacific rivers all run dry
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| their clouds will fill my loud corrupted sky
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| and if the pleasures of your heavens ever end
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| that very ladder just as well descends. |