| It was in the town of Tucson in Nineteen Eighty-Three
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| A man named Edward Abbey come a walking up to me
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| He pulled his cigar from his mouth, said, «I smell lawyers here»
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| The politician, running-dogs, they crawled away in fear
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| Singing do-ra-do
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| Singing do-ra-day
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| Ed walked across the desert at least a thousand times
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| He spoke with javelina, slept 'neath piñon pine
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| And if he saw a billboard there, he’d chop that bastard down
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| Said, if a man can’t piss in his own front yard, he’d never keep close to town
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| Singing do-ra-do
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| Singing do-ra-day
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| Lord, I wish Edward Abbey were walking round today
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| Ed had a taste for women, in fact he married quite a few
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| He said, «I'd fall in love, boys, but I’m only passing through
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| You know I like 'em all, boys, and some more than the rest
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| I’ve tried my hand at monogamy, now I’m off to save the west
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| Singing do-ra-do
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| Singing do-ra-day
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| Ed died one day at sundown in his Tucson riding shack
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| They wrapped him in a sleeping bag and drove him way out back
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| Beneath the wild saguaro, the coyotes chewed his bones
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| And on a hidden marker, was 'No Comment', carved in stone
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| Singing do-ra-do
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| Singing do-ra-day
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| Yeah, I wish Edward Abbey were walking round today
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| Now I’m living in the desert, but the town is a-closing in
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| Those cracker box developments, Ed would call a sin
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| We stole this land from the Mexican and now we’ll sell it back
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| And they’ll live like mortgage prisoners in those goddamn housing tracts
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| Tell me, who votes for the mountain lion, tell me, who votes for the fox
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| Who votes for the spotted owl who hides there in the rocks
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| I wish that Ed would come again with a chainsaw in his hand
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| And carve all up those housing tracts and take on back the land
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| Singing do-ra-do
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| Singing do-ra-day
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| Yeah, I wish Edward Abbey were walking round today |