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The End

I don't know the sound of my father's voice

I don't even know how he says my name

But it plays out like a song on a jukebox in a bar

In the back of my head till it's weary and mushyAnd in the cotton fields out by the house where I was born

The leaves burn like effigies of my kin

The trains run like snakes through Penacostal pine

Filled up with cotton and fine slow ginOh, Jacksonville, how you burn in my soul

How you hold all my dreams captive

Jacksonville, how you play with my mind

Oh, my heart goes back, suffocating on the pines

In JacksonvilleThe end, the end, the endAll the cars are lined up on a Saturday night

With the sky full of nothing but moon

And I lose my reflection in the bottles of wine

Till the morning comes down and I ain't nothing but youNow the diner in the morning for a plate of eggs

The waitress tries to give me change I say, "Nah, it's cool, just keep it"

I read up my news, I start thinking about her

And I wonder if anybody here besides me has got any decent secretsOh, Jacksonville, how you burn in my soul

How you hold all my dreams captive

Jackson hell, how you play with my mind

Oh, my heart goes back, suffocating on the pines

In JacksonvilleThe end, the end, the end

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