| My name, I don’t remember
|
| Though I hail from Ohio
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| I had a wife and children
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| Good tires on my car
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| What took me from my home
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| And put me in the Earth
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| Was the mouth of a deep dark hole
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| I found behind my barn
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| We’d been filling it with garbage
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| As long as you could count
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| Kitchen scraps and dead cows
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| Tractors broken down
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| But never did I hear one thing hit the ground
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| And slowly I came to fear
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| That this was a
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| bottomless hole
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| I went out behind the barn
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| And stared down in that hole
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| Late into the evening
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| My mind would not let go
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| So I got out my ropes and a rusty clawfoot tub
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| And I rigged myself a chariot
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| To ride down in that hole
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| My wife, she did help me
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| She fed me down the ropes
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| And then I sank away
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| From the surface of this world
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| When the last rope pulled tight
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| I had not reached the end
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| And in anger, I swung there
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| Down in that dark abyss
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| So I got out my knife
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| I told my wife goodbye
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| I cut loose from the ropes
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| And fell on down that hole
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| And still I’m there falling
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| Down in this evil pit
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| But until I hit the bottom
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| I won’t believe it’s bottomless |