| Now I hear a lot of tall stories since my business is writin' songs
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| And every now and then if you listen real close
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| A good true one comes along
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| And this is the story of old Bill Crump from the North Carolina Hills
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| Nat Winston of Nashville knew this man real well
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| He built the church and he built the pews
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| He built the cradles and the furniture for the schools
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| Folks in Avery County say that he was better than good
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| Probably one of the reasons the Lord made wood
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| Now men have faults and Bill’s fault was
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| He loved to sip that corn
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| He lived ninety some years that way
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| Don’t guess it was hurtin' him none
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| You could take him a picture from a catalog
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| He could build anything he’d see
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| He could make anything
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| That you could make out of the tree
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| One day Bill said, Mama I’m gettin' old
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| I want you to measure me good
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| I’m goin' out to that wood pile
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| And get myself some wood
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| And I’m gonna make me a coffin
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| I want it to fit me fine
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| The way I figure it
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| I’ve got about enough time
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| Now Bill worked on that coffin
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| Like he was gonna be there awhile
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| He’d show the folks and rub that wood
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| And then stand back and smile
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| He used that body for ninety some years
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| Figured it had treated him good
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| And when he left it
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| He put it away in some real fine wood
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| Oh, right now old Bill’s sleepin'
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| In the hills of North Caroline
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| In his homemade coffin
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| Handrubbed walnut velvet lined
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| Now most folks use their heads and hands
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| And just think of themselves
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| His body’s there
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| But his spirit’s someplace else
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| He built the church and he built the pews |