| Brand new shoes, they hurt my feet
|
| This nech-tie is chokin' me
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| Cuttin' off my air supply
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| When I hang my head and cry
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| When I hang my head and cry
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| I see tears on daddy’s face
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| Someone’s hummin' Amazing Grace
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| Rain beats on this graveside tent
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| Preacher says he did repent
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| Preacher swears he did repent
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| They’ve got him layin' there in pin-stripes
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| How’d they get him in that suit
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| I guess the Lord will recognize him
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| Without his overalls and mule
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| They all say he looks so natural
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| All I see’s a cold dark hole
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| I won’t commit this day to memory
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| That ain’t the grandpa that I know
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| That ain’t the grandpa that I know
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| You know a tractor never pulled his plough
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| He walked and cursed and loved that ground
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| His hand sowed each single seed
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| And he’d pray for rain and fight the weeds
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| He’d pray for rain and fight the weeds
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| He said, this simple life, it suits me fine
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| Never dreamed beyond the county line
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| Grandma was his boyhood bride
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| He’ll be back in her arms tonight
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| He’ll sleep there in her arms tonight
|
| They’ve got him layin' there in pin-stripes
|
| How’d they get him in that suit
|
| I guess the Lord will recognize him
|
| Without his overalls and mule
|
| They all say he looks so natural
|
| All I see’s a cold dark hole
|
| I won’t commit this day to memory
|
| That ain’t the grandpa that I know
|
| They played a pretty organ number
|
| Swore it was his favorite tune
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| But I know he preferred a fiddle
|
| Playin' Carroll County Blues
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| They all say he looks so natural
|
| But all I see’s a cold dark hole
|
| I won’t commit this day to memory
|
| That ain’t the grandpa that I know
|
| That ain’t the grandpa that I know |