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I'd play the Red River Valley And he'd sit out in the kitchen and cry And run his fingers through seventy years of livin' And wonder, "Lord, has ever' well I've drilled run dry?" We were friends, me and this old man Like desperados waitin' for a train...

Shiny, shiny, shiny boots of leather Whiplash girlchild in the dark Comes in bells, your servant, don't forsake him Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart Downy sins of streetlight fancies Chase the costumes she shall wear Ermine furs adorn the imperious...

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