| Mama lies on the couch
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| In her old wedding gown
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| She turned pale long before
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| The carnival had left town
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| She stares at the front porch
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| On the outlook for dad
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| «Don't worry, I’ll be back in a week»
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| Is the last thing he said
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| We all knew he gambled
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| In the city, and lost
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| Money we didn’t have
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| Must’ve been the line that he crossed
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| It’s been over a year
|
| Instead of a week
|
| Here in our house
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| Our house by the creek
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| Me and my family
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| Live in the Netherlands
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| In the house that daddy built
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| With his bare hands
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| My younger brother Jimmy
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| Is playing outside
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| With his cap gun he tries
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| To shoot planes from the sky
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| In his chair by the window
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| Sits uncle Fred
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| Since he’s back from the war
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| There ain’t a word he has said
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| And Freckles, my sister
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| She passed away, sir
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| Sometimes in my dreams
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| I catch up with dad and with her
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| What we end up with
|
| Is not what we seek
|
| Here in our house
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| Our house by the creek
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| My name is Louie
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| It’s Louie, all right
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| I play dad’s old accordion
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| All day and all night
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| I just turned eleven
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| So I’m still a kid
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| But when I grow up
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| I wanna find out what daddy did
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| Mister believe me
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| I was taught not to cry
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| And that family should stay together
|
| Till the day that you die
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| Yeah mister, believe me
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| I was taught boys don’t cry
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| And that the town where you’re born
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| Is the town where you’ll die
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| That the town where you’re born
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| Is where you’ll probably die
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| What did God wanna show
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| When He created man weak?
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| We don’t understand
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| In our house by the creek |