| Charlie drove his Harley into Dewey’s Bar and Grill
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| Parked that hog in the middle of the floor
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| Said «Where's that dirty coward that I come in here to kill?»
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| Said «Charlie, he just ran out the back door.»
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| Then Charlie heard that Mustang fire up and peel down the street
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| Apologized to Dewey for the intrusion
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| He headed out to Rich McCray
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| Today that creep was gonna pay
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| For what he did to Charlie’s sister Susan
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| He chased the Must down 49
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| Headin' for the county line
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| Ol' Rich could feel the sweat pour from his brow
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| Charlie pulled his 44
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| And drew a bead on that old Ford
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| But then he had to swerve to miss a cow
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| He left Highway 49
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| Doin' a hundred twenty nine
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| Landed in a heap in a cornfield
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| Pulled himself out of the mud
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| Wiped his eyes a’clear of blood
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| Yeah, Rich McCray, your worthless fate is sealed
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| He started up that big ol' hog
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| And headed straight on through the bog
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| To head on with Richie had blown past
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| McCray thought that he was homefree
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| Then Charlie burst out of the trees
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| And Richie had almost shit right in his pants
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| The bloody muddy cut up Charlie
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| Climbed off of his smokin' Harley
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| Stood right in the center 'f 49
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| Rich pushed the pedal to the floor
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| And thought for sure he’d won the war
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| But a slug from a 44 magnum changed his mind
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| Like a blood filled tick his skull just popped
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| But even as the last drip dropped
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| His footstep pushin' hard down on the floor
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| Charlie had no time to run
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| He looked up at the setting sun
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| And laughed up at the Mustang’s deadly roar
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| That pony hit him like a train
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| That hog burst into a big black flame
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| And Charlie and his Harley said goodbye
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| On a lonely stretch of 49
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| On a bloody day in 69
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| Charlie and his brother Richie died
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| Woaaah! |