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FROM THE PLAINS TO MEXICO The Residents We were lyin' on the prairie, on Slaughter's ranch one night. With our heads upon our saddles, and a campfire burnin' bright. Soon we fell to talkin' of distant friends so dear. When a boy raised up his saddle, and he wiped (brushed) away a tear. Oh, I fell in love with a neighbor girl, her cheeks were soft and white. Another feller loved her too, and it ended in a fight Oh it makes me shake and shudder to think of that awful night When Tom and I began to fight, and I stabbed him with my knife. I fell down on my knees and tried to stop the blood. That came out from his side all spurtin' Like some bright red crimson flood. And now when I am sleepin' I hear him softly say, Oh Bob, I know your sorry, but I've gone to a better place. And yes, I guess I believe it, but I just can't let him go His dyin' eyes are with me, from the plains to Mexico. (Contributed by Bette Carl - December 2003)


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