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Come to my house and we'll pick bones
Their hands outside ready with stones
Come to my yard
I got whiskey and chairs
We?ll sit on the porch
As the good men stare
You ain't never spoke true
I shake an angry fist at you
You are not needed here
To help me feel low down
I?m doing it fine all on my own
Taken from AlbumSongAndLyrics.comI hear you crying from cradle to coffin
And for you there'll be no stopping
I see you lying in a pine box with bitter words
That?s how the boy talks