| I met him in a hospital about a year ago
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| And why I still remember him I guess I’ll never know
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| He’d lie there and cry out in a medicated fog
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| «Here I am in this dang bed and who’s gonna feed them hogs?»
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| «Four hundred hogs, they just standin' out there
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| My wife can’t feed 'em and my neighbors don’t care
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| They can’t get out and roam around like my old huntin' dogs
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| Here I am in this dang bed and who’s gonna feed them hogs?»
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| His face was lean and his hands were rough
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| His way was hogs and his nature was tough
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| His doctors tried to tell him that he may not live at all
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| But all he ever talked about was who’s gonna feed them hogs
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| Four hundred hogs comes to eight hundred hams
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| And that’s a lot of money for a hog-raisin' man
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| Four hundred hogs comes to sixteen hundred feet
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| The market’s up and there are people a-waitin' on that meat
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| Well, the doctors say they do not know what saved the man from death
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| But in a few days he put on his overalls and he left
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| That’s all there is to this small song but waitress, before you leave
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| Would you bring me some coffee and a hot ham sandwich, please?
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| Four hundred hogs they’re just standing out there
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| His wife couldn’t feed 'em and his neighbors didn’t care
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| They couldn’t get out and roam around like his old huntin' dogs |