| One old brown shoe falls in slow motion
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| And the bedsprings hover right above your head
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| As bed springs do, when you’re beneath them
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| Someone else just climbed into your bed
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| By the time she thought you’d probably got to Phoenix
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| She’d arranged for your shoes to be filled
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| Well you’ve got your pride, and a blue-steel '45
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| And you’re waiting for the other shoe to fall
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| You’ll dig a double grave out in the meadow
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| And you’ll curse the rain that turns the dirt to mud
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| You’ll take I-35 south towards Laredo
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| Then you’ll try to find a doctor who can prescribe an elixir
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| That’ll make everything better, except your late wife and her lover
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| By the time she thought you’d probably got to Phoenix
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| She’d sealed her fate and gotten herself killed
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| Well you’ve got your pride, and a blue-steel '45
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| And you’re waiting for the other shoe to fall |