There's a man in a pitch black hat
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And his underwear's made of mud
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He jumps like a pouncing cat
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And he lands with a sickening thud
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His head is surrounded by ravens
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The plague has progressed to his heart
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Best that you meet him clean shaven
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Cos his razor is not kept sharp
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And he's wearing a wooden overcoat
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He's known in the underworld
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He lives in the undergrowth
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And he's knowingly undersold
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Though he's never been under oath
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His devil's are arrayed in armies
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And his angels will fix the fight
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He'll shape you like origami
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And throw you away at night
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And he's wearing a wooden overcoat
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His house is a damp museum
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And all of his servants worms
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Mating in mausoleums
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Licking the floor for germs
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And his cabinet's full of wonders
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There's specimens everywhere
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He's negative six feet under
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And has to submerge for air
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And he's wearing a wooden overcoat
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Don't ever act too humble
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Don't eat away thy heart
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He's tearing apart each dungeon
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His tail's an evil dart
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And he's wearing a wooden overcoat
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Wooden Overcoat
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John Wesley Harding |