| I’ve heard all the stories of you back in your prime
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| How you held all your pride in hands stained
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| And you’d go to work for breadcrumbs and dirt
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| So your kids could stand tall in their name
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| And you’d told me
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| 'Son they’re things to be done when you’re older and stronger like me"
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| You give all you have just to be a good dad
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| And you’ll die a thousand times just to please
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| 'n old man the blood that you bled
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| And the mouths that you fed at your door
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| 'n old man the sweat that you pour
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| Proves that they don’t make em' you no more
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| 'n old man the dinners you missed
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| So your daughters could eat at this table
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| 'n old man I would give back all the things that you’ve lacked if I’s able
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| I’ve never seen you smile like you did out in Pineville
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| When the crowd screamed the words of your kid
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| You told me
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| «Boy it’s been a long hard road in this life that I’ve chose for my kin
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| And I wish and I pray I could go back in time so I could raise up this family
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| again.»
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| 'n old man the blood that you bled
|
| And the mouths that you fed at your door
|
| 'n old man the sweat that you pour
|
| Proves that they don’t make em' you no more
|
| 'n old man the dinners you missed
|
| So your daughters could eat at this table
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| 'n old man I would give back all the things that you’ve lacked if I’s able
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| I’ve heard all the stories of you back in your prime
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| How you held all your pride in hands stained |