| I ain’t been but one little place and lived here all my life
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| I ain’t known but one woman and now she is my wife
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| Never been further than up the road to the town and back again
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| Never known but a handful of folks and them I call my friends
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| Now I’m going to leave here
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| Now I’m going away
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| Keep my fiddle tuned for me
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| I’ll need it some sweet day
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| Well the preacher said to my only son I’ll sign you up for war
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| You’ll fight for your life far from your home and never come back no more
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| Well my only son come home one day and we buried him up the hill
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| Next to his auntie and old grandma and dear old uncle bill
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| Now I’m going to leave here
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| Now I’m going away
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| Keep my fiddle tuned for me
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| I’ll need it some sweet day
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| Now I’m gonna go myself and see what’s it’s all about
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| Why’d they take a poor man’s son he was all I got
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| Who’s pockets are filled with gold and they don’t have to fight
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| Or leave home and say goodbye to their kids and worry on them all night
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| Now I’m going to leave here
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| Now I’m going away
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| Keep my fiddle tuned for me
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| I’ll need it some sweet day
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| I set up camp one day on the street where the rich man lived
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| He won’t come out and talk to me he don’t have the time to give
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| But’ll call the cops and say roustabout’s a-living on our place
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| So take him away and all his kind I don’t wanna see his face
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| Now I’m going to leave here
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| Now I’m going away
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| Keep my fiddle tuned for me
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| I’ll need it some sweet day
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| I wished I’d stayed to home and kept my son there too
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| You can give to the rich man all day long but he’ll never give back to you
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| So they can call me roustabout and do it all they please
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| Never will I stop for them or get down on my knees
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| Now I’m going to leave here
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| Now I’m going away
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| Keep my fiddle tuned for me
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| I’ll need it some sweet day |