“If you’re around when I’m about to croak,
Please promise me it won’t be in Texas;
‘Cause I’d lose a bet to a blackjack bloke,
And in the end, a debt often wrecks us –
‘Us’ means dumb sons’of’bitches, you and me.”
And then with nothing but a puff of smoke,
That poor Kentucky kid joined long dead folk
While drunkenly daydreaming of Dundee.

 

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