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| Capo 3 |
| G | |
| Dirt | roads and dry land farming |
| Might be the death of me |
| C | G | |
| But I | can't leave this world behi | nd |
| And my debts are not like prison |
| Were there's hope of getting free |
| C | G | |
| And I | can't leave this world behi | nd |
| D | C | |
| I've been from here to Lawrence, | Kansas |
| D | C | |
| Trying to leave my state of | mind |
| D | C | |
| Trying to leave this awful | sadness |
| G | |
| But I can't leave this world bei | nd |
| South of Deliah there's a patch |
| Out back by the willow tree |
| And I can't leave this world behind |
| It's a fenced in piece of nothing |
| Where I hear voices on my knees |
| And I can't leave this world behind |
| Some prophecies are self-fulfilling |
| But I've had to work for all of mine |
| Better times will come to me, God willing |
| 'Cause I can't leave this world beind |
| This world must be frightning |
| Everybody's on the run |
| And I can't leave this world behind |
| And my house is a wooden one |
| And it's built on the ruins of a wooden one |
| Seem's I can't leave this world behind |
| Preacher says that when the master calls us |
| He's gonna give us wings to fly |
| But my wings are made of hay and corn husks |
| So I can't leave this world behind |