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Magnolia Wind (Clark Guy)

I'd rather sleep in a box like a bum on the street Than a fine feather bed without your little ol' cold feet And I'd rather be deaf, dumb, and stone blind Than to know that your mornings will never be mine And I'd rather die young than to live without you I'd rather go hungry than eat lonesome stew You know it's once in a lifetime and it won't come again It's here and it's gone on a magnolia wind I'd rather not walk through the garden again If I can't catch your scent on a magnolia wind Well if it ever comes time that it comes time to go Sis' pack up your fiddle, Sis' pack up your bow If I can't dance with you then I won't dance at all I'll just sit this one out with my back to the wall I'd rather not hear pretty music again If I can't hear your fiddle on a magnolia wind If I can't catch your scent on a magnolia wind