| He came and shot her parents both in the head
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| Dragged them outside, put the bodies in the shed
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| Collected up her things, put them in his trunk
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| He sat her on his lap right next to his gun
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| The prairies of Nebraska soaked in blood
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| The love made between them using his gun
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| And the bodies stacked in rows
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| The dead they will never know
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| Showed his Caril-Ann how to use a knife
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| Picked up slowly, killed with it twice
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| Shot who they could, snapped the neck of a dog
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| Stole a dead man’s car and the engine stalled
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| The prairies of Nebraska soaked in blood
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| The love made between them using his gun
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| And the bodies stacked in rows
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| The dead they will never know
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| They executed him with her name on his lips
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| He loved her in life just as much in death
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| And sometimes I feel like we’re heading down the same road
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| Sometimes I feel like we’re just like them |