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Hank Snow
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1
The man above was a murderer the man below was a thief
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And I lay there in the bunk between ailing beyond belief
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A weary armful of skin and bone wasted with pain and grief
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My feet were froze and the lifeless toes were purple and green and gray
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The little flesh that clung to my bones you could punch it in holes like clay
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The skin on my gums was a sullen black and slowly peeling away
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I was sure enough in a direful fix and often I wondered why
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They did not take the chance that was left and leave me alone to die
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Or finish me off with a dose of dope so utterly lost was I
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But no they brewed me the green-spruce tea and nursed me there like a child
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And the homicide he was good to me and bathed my sores and smiled
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And the thief he starved that I might be fed and his eyes were kind and mild
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Yet they were woefully wicked men and often at night in pain
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I heard the murderer speak of his deed and dream it over again
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I heard the poor thief sorrowing for the dead self he had slain
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I'll never forget that bitter dawn so evil askew and gray
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When they wrapped me round in the skins of beasts and bore me to a sleigh
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And we started out with the nearest post a hundred miles away
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I'll never forget the trail they broke with its tense unuttered woe
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And the crunch crunch crunch as their snowshoes sank through the crust of the hollow snow
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And my breath would fail and every beat of my heart was like a blow
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And often times I would die the death yet wake up to life anew
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The sun would be all ablaze on the waste and the sky a blighting blue
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And the tears would rise in my snow-blind eyes and furrow my cheeks like dew
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And the camps we made when their strength outplayed and the day was pinched and wan
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And oh the joy of the blessed halt and I did dread the dawn
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And how I hated the weary men who rose and dragged me on
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And oh how I begged to rest to rest the snow was so sweet a shroud
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And oh how I cried when they urged me on cried and cursed them aloud
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Yet on they strained all racked and pained and sorely their backs were bowed
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And then it was all like a lurid dream and I prayed for a swift release
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From the ruthless ones who would not leave me to die alone in peace
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Till I waked up and I found myself at the post of the Mounted Police
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And there was my friend the murderer and there was my friend the thief
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With bracelets of steel around their wrists and wicked beyond belief
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But when they come to God's judgment seat may I be allowed the brief
Hank Snow - I'm Moving On - 1967.
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