| Way down deep, in a land forgotten
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| Just like clockwork, the sun beats down
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| But you can’t hide from the eye of Heaven
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| 'Cause there’s no mercy on this ground
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| Sweet Magnolias have their day
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| Holy ground in soft embrace
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| Like the portraits in her parlor
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| She still wears her best Sunday face
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| She is oak and grace
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| Behind the iron lace
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| Tarnished silver in a case
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| A Morning Glory in the shade
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| She sits in the twilight
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| And waits for change to fall in place
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| She’s heard all those bedtime stories
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| How old King Cotton lost his crown
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| But daddy owned all the dragons
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| Before his castle tumbled down
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| She is oak and grace
|
| Behind the iron lace
|
| Tarnished silver in a case
|
| A Morning Glory in the shade
|
| She sits in the twilight
|
| And waits for change to fall in place
|
| (Instrumental)
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| Trusting daughter of blind tradition
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| Never seen a shell game in her life
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| But now there’s kudzu in the arbor
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| And those dragons are loose in the night
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| But she is oak and grace
|
| Behind the iron lace
|
| Tarnished silver in a case
|
| A Morning Glory in the shade |
| She is oak and grace
|
| Behind the iron lace
|
| Tarnished silver in a case
|
| A Morning Glory in the shade
|
| In the shade |