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Lyrics prompt from John Prine's In Spite of Ourselves
[Verse 2:sung by Iris Dement]
"He ain't got laid in a month of Sundays
I caught him once and he was sniffin' my undies
He ain't too sharp, but he gets things done
Drinks his beer like it's oxygen"
[He's my baby and I'm his honey
I'm never gonna let him go]
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