(Mary Chapin Carpenter)
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I was standing on the sidewalk in 1945
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In Jacksonville, Illinois
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When asked what my name was there came no reply
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They said I was a deaf and sightless half-wit boy
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But Louis was my name, though I could not say it
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I was born and raised in New Orleans
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My spirit was wild, so I let the river take it
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On a barge and a prayer upstream
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Well they searched for a mother and they searched for a father
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And they searched till they searched no more
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The doctors put to rest their scientific tests
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And they named me "John Doe No. 24"
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And they all shook their heads in pity
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For a world so silent and dark
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Well there's no doubt that life's a mystery
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But so too is the human heart
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And it was my heart's own perfume when the crepe jasmine bloomed
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On Rue Morgue Avenue
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Though I couldn't hear the bells of the streetcars coming
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By toeing the track I knew
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And if I were an old man returning
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With my satchel and porkpie hat
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I'd hit every jazz joint on Bourbon
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And I'd hit everyone on Basin after that
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The years kept passing as they passed me around
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From one state ward to another
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Like I was an orphan shoe from the lost and found
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Always missing the other
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And they gave me a harp last Christmas
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And all the nurses took a dance
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But lately I've been growing listless
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I've been dreaming again of the past
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I'm wandering down to the banks of the great Big Muddy
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Where the shotgun houses stand
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I am seven years old and I feel my dad
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Reach out for my hand
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While I drew breath no one missed me
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So they won't on the day that I cease
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Put a sprig of crepe jasmine with me
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To remind me of New Orleans
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I was standing on the sidewalk in 1945
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In Jacksonville, Illinois
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John Doe No. 24
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Mary Chapin Carpenter |