| We were lyin' on the prairie, on slaughter’s ranch one night
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| With our heads upon our saddles and a campfire burnin' bright
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| Soon we fell to talkin' of distant friends so dear
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| Oh, when a boy raised up in his saddle and he wiped away our tear
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| Oh, I fell in love with a neighbor girl, her cheeks were soft and white
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| Another feller loved her too and it ended in a fight
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| Oh, it makes me shake and shudder to think of that awful night
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| When Tom and I began to fight and I stabbed him with my knife
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| I fell down on my knees and tried to stop the blood
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| That came out from his side all spurtin'
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| Like some bright red crimson flood
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| And now when I am sleepin' I hear him softly say
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| Oh Bob, I know you’re sorry but I’ve gone to a better place
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| Yes I guess, I believe it but I just can’t let it go
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| His dyin' eyes are with me, oh from the plains to Mexico |