| On a muggy night in the north end in july
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| A kid named Joseph Beeper Spence
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| Took a shotgun blast to the back
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| And died…
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| There by the cp tracks, along the great divide you see
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| Fought two native gangs called the deuce and the i. |
| p
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| Dances with warriors, hatred between slaves
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| They kill each other off… we all get saved
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| I can’t help but think… his mother’s tears
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| Beeper Spence was thirteen
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| In the northern frontier
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| A van crossed the bridge that night
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| And stopped at flora avenue
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| When Beeper thought they’d lost their way
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| Walked over to see what he could do
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| «Are you i. |
| p…» «straight up». |
| he’d say
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| Even if it wasn’t true
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| «Bust a cap in his ass»
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| …He turned to run, heard the blast
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| Then he was through
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| The kids in the van weren’t much older than him
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| Couldn’t tell the difference by the colour of their skin
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| One thing in common, and one thing was real clear
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| Their future was ended in the northern frontier
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| Dances with warriors, hatred between slaves
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| They cut each other down and no one is safe
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| Jeff Giles is cut down in his 22nd year
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| Trying to stop an i.p. |
| robbery
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| In the northern frontier |