| Hanging on the wall just like a thousand times you been there
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| A picture of a field of dandelions
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| And a young stud colt a-followin' some ol' cowboy on a brood mare
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| A-bound to make it home by dinner time
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| There’s a thunderhead a-coming from the west and he’s sure thinking
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| The rain would do this dusty dirt some good
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| But it ain’t a cowboy’s weather so he nudges his old faithful
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| And turns around to call out to the stud
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| Come on Willie, there’s a black cloud coming yonder
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| The devil beats his wife with a silver chain
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| Come on Willie, boy can’t you hear the thunder
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| Your ma and me don’t travel well in rain
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| It ain’t nothing much to look at, just a print I got from grandma
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| A real west river cowgirl in her day
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| And sometimes I need religion since the old girl’s gone before me
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| And that’s when I can hear the cowboy say
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| «Come on Willie, there’s a black cloud coming yonder
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| «The devil beats his wife with a silver chain
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| «Come on Willie, boy can’t you hear the thunder
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| «Your ma and me don’t travel well in rain»
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| And now the western feeling has become another sideshow
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| Selling out the bygone days gone by
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| And we never know it’s raining, we can’t hear it for our thunder
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| We can’t see it for our clouds up in the sky
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| Come on Willie, there’s a black cloud coming yonder
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| The devil beats his wife with a silver chain
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| Come on Willie, boy can’t you hear the thunder
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| Your ma and me don’t travel well in rain
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| Your ma and me don’t travel well in rain |