| John Wilkes Booth was a southern man
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| Born of an actor in Maryland
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| Bound for fortune on a gas-lit stage
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| Bound to die at a tender age
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| Washington to Baltimore
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| He played the bills and he slept with whores
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| And he burned inside with a hatred deep
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| For the man who caused the south to weep
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| Young Abe Lincoln wasn’t young no more
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| Tired old man when he won the war
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| And he dreamed at night of his death by the hands
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| Of the bitter world and a faceless man
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| And he saw his body in a ghastly dream
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| Draped in black while his widow screamed
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| Two silver dollars on his eyelids lay
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| Abraham Lincoln has died today
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| And they said there were five and they said there were ten
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| Some say there was never more than just one man
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| Oh, it’s awful to see Mr. Lincoln dead
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| In the name of God and Dixie, in the name of God and Dixie Land
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| John Wilkes Booth and his band of men
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| They’d failed before but would try again
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| When Good Friday dawned with a fickle sun
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| Then Booth declared the day had come
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| And the word was passed and the guns were brought
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| Down to Mary Sarrat’s boarding house
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| Sealed in a note, Booth named just four
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| But the gallows would sway with many more
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| And they said there were five and they said there were ten
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| Some say there was never more than just one man
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| Oh, it’s awful to see Mr. Lincoln dead
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| In the name of God and Dixie, in the name of God and Dixie Land
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| John Wilkes Booth went to his grave
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| With a bullet in his neck and a broken leg
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| A patriot and his fantasy
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| Of redemption, grace and bravery
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| And those who were hanged and those who spent
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| Their lives behind a jailer’s fence
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| Only Booth could have proved them free
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| Of the taint of the conspiracy
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| For they said there were five and they said there were ten
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| Some said there was never more than just one man
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| Oh, it’s awful to see Mr. Lincoln dead
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| In the name of God and Dixie, in the name of God and Dixie Land
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| In the name of God and Dixie, in the name of God and Dixie Land |