| He came down from Oregon,
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| times were lean and hard
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| but he kept his guard like a junkyard dog
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| the sky was full of winter snow
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| and the old men stood and watched him go,
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| moving down the sidewalk in the cold
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| moving down the sidewalk in the cold
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| he was tall and kind of handsome, in a
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| Gary Cooper way with his
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| mackinaw and his hat pulled low down he
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| walked into a nightspot and began to play they
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| said they’d never heard his kind before they
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| said they’d never heard his kind before
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| he wasn’t born a shooting star it was never in the plan
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| but he could steal your heart away
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| and they called him the Banjoman
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| they called him the Banjoman
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| but it wasn’t always easy
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| you win sometimes you lose
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| and the crowd who called him axe, to cut him down
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| worked the stages of the world,
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| God knows he paid his dues
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| and the whiskey days and the darker sides of town
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| whiskey days and the darker sides of town
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| whiskey days and the darker sides of town
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| I met him south of Antwerp, on a stormy night in June
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| it was everybod’s heros, and the past,
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| there was a lady of a lifetime, checking out he was ok
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| and we sang a song together in the rain
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| sang a song together in the rain
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| He wasn’t born a shooting star it was never in the plan
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| but he could steal your heart away
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| and they called him the Banjoman
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| they called him the Banjoman |