| I was runnin' thru the summer rain, try’n' to catch that evenin' train
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| And kill the old familiar pain weavin' thru my tangled brain
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| When I tipped my bottle back and smacked into a cop I didn’t see
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| That police man said, «Mister Cool, if you ain’t drunk, then you’re a fool.»
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| I said, «If that’s against the law, then tell me why I never saw
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| A man locked in that jail of yours who wasn’t neither black or poor as me?»
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| Well, that was when someone turned out the lights
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| And I wound up in jail to spend the night
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| And dream of all the wine and lonely girls
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| In this best of all possible worlds.
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| Well, I woke up next mornin' feelin' like my head was gone
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| And like my thick old tongue was lickin' something sick and wrong
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| And I told that man I’d sell my soul for something wet and cold as that old
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| cell.
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| That kindly jailer grinned at me, all eaten up with sympathy
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| Then poured himself another beer and came and whispered in my ear,
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| «If booze was just a dime a bottle boy, you couldn’t even buy the smell»
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| I said, «I knew there was something I liked about this town.»
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| But it takes more than that to bring me down, down, down.
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| 'Cause there’s still a lot of wine and lonely girls
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| In this best of all possible worlds
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| Well, they finally came and told me they was a gonna set me free
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| And I’d be leavin' town if I knew what was good for me I said, «It's nice to learn that ev’rybody’s so concerned about my health.»
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| (They were obsessed with it)
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| I said, «I won’t be leavin' no more quicker than I can
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| 'Cause I’ve enjoyed about as much of this as I can stand
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| And I don’t need this town of yours more than I never needed nothin' else.»
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| 'Cause there’s still alot of drinks that I ain’t drunk
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| And lots of pretty thoughts that I ain’t thunk
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| And lord there’s still so many lonely girls
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| In this best of all possible worlds. |