| Oh, Suzannah’s bedraggled but she
|
| Still wears the locket 'round her neck.
|
| She’s got a picture on the table
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| Of a man who is young and able.
|
| Oh, Suzannah’s gonna cry,
|
| Oh, Suzannah’s still alive.
|
| Whiskey or gin, that’s alright,
|
| When there’s nothing in her bed at night
|
| She sleeps with the covers down,
|
| Hopin’that somebody gets in.
|
| Doesn’t matter what she does,
|
| She knows that she can’t win.
|
| Oh, Suzannah’s gonna cry.
|
| She’s got a doll with one eye,
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| That always cries when she gets some sleep
|
| She’s waiting for a soldier to come home,
|
| But she’ll cry and never die.
|
| Oh, Suzannah’s gonna cry,
|
| Oh, Suzannah’s still alive.
|
| Whiskey or gin, that’s alright,
|
| When there’s nothing in her bed at night
|
| She sleeps with the covers down,
|
| Hopin’that somebody gets in.
|
| Doesn’t matter what she does,
|
| She knows that she can’t win.
|
| Oh, Suzannah’s still alive.
|
| Oh, Suzannah’s gonna cry,
|
| Oh, Suzannah’s still alive.
|
| Oh, Suzannah’s still alive. |