| Oh it’s raining, raining, raining here this morning
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| As I sit in jail and hang my head in shame
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| With a smile I try to greet each early dawning
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| But they’ve given me a number for my name
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| Many a little raindrops are falling close to me
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| Makes the streams and rivers just as muddy as can be
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| It’s raining, raining, raining here this morning
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| As the Mississippi flows on to the sea
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| How I wish that I could see my little darling
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| And hold her in my arms just as before
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| I used to tell her every day I loved her
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| But now she doesn’t love me anymore
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| She knew that I was guiltless of this one crime
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| And said that she’d be waiting there for me
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| But she has found somewhere else to wander
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| Where the Mississippi flows on to the sea
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| Its raining, raining, raining here this morning
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| And I am just as weary as can be
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| I wish that I could follow all the raindrops
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| Down the Mississippi toward the silver sea
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| But there’s no way to prove that I’m not guilty
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| So I will have to suffer all the shame
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| Go and tell her for me little raindrops
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| That they’ve given me a number for my name |