| Sweet Abilena looks out at the midwestern sky
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| Sweet seventeen with a faraway look in her eyes
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| She said, «;I feel like a bird in a cage
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| But come September I’m flying away»;
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| I said, «;I'm gonna miss you»; |
| then I made her promise to write
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| Since we were tall as the corn in the spring
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| We shared every secret, shared every dream
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| So anxious to grow in the new summer rain
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| And bloom like a rose on the calico plains
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| How could she hear as we laughed on that warm summer night
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| The tiny heart of the baby she carried inside
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| I stood beside her when September came
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| Watched her get married and caught the bouquet
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| And like those hand me down dresses she gave me
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| I made her dreams mine
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| From a seat by the window on wings made of steel
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| I stared at the patchwork over the fields
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| Where young tears that once fell like warm summer rain
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| Were turning to snow on the calico plains
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| Sweet Abilena looks out at the midwestern sky
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| Closer to thirty but farther away in her eyes |