| Well I remember William
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| We weren’t much more than kids
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| His family lived in a run down shack
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| Like the rest of the white trash did
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| Now me and ole William
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| We used to smoke out behind the barn
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| Till his daddy caught him stealing cigarettes
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| I still think he broke William’s arm
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| When I was drinking my first beer
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| Ole William was getting high
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| He got kicked out of school for fighting and drugs
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| And he stayed out late at night
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| He never said too much about home
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| Or the bruises on his back
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| I asked him about 'em one time
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| But he never answered back
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| Yeah William
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| You grew up hard and mean
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| You weren’t the apple of your mama’s eye
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| And your daddy was a burned out fiend
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| For what it’s worth now William
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| I know you could’ve had a heart of gold
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| But I don’t think you ever knew that you had one
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| I don’t think you were ever told
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| He spent a year in reform school
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| 'Cause he broke in a hardware store
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| Now me and William lost track of each other
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| I never saw him much anymore
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| The last time I seen William
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| He was married and had two kids
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| He tried to raise 'em like he was supposed to
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| But sometimes he raised 'em like his daddy did
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| Well just last Sunday morning
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| Momma called me on the phone
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| Said there’s a story in the paper about William
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| She just thought I might like to know
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| He got shot by a city cop
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| While he was robbing a local drugstore
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| He was survived by two hungry kids, a wife
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| And a pool of blood on the floor |