THE KLANSMAN
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WORD OF TROUBLE SPREAD AROUND
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ONE DAY A MAN CAME TO MY TOWN
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I WAS IN THE KITCHEN WHEN MY PA LET HIM IN
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HE SHOOK MY HAND, SAID, THE KLANS YOUR FRIEND
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WAS A MEETING AT LYLE STANTON’S HOUSE
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ON JEFFERSON HIGHWAY
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SOME, THEY DID NOT LISTEN
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SOME DID NOT TURN AWAY
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SAID, WHEN THE HOLY RAIN OF FIRE
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COMES TUMBLIN’ FROM ABOVE
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IT’LL BE A KLANSMAN
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WHO’ll STAND FOR THE LAND HE LOVES
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LOOK AWAY, LOOK AWAY NOW
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I WAS TEN YEARS OLD WHEN MY PA SAID SON
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SOMEDAY YOU WILL SEE
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WHEN YOU GROW YOU’LL WEAR THE ROBES
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LIKE YOUR BROTHER AND ME
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WHEN THE WAR BETWEEN THE RACES
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LEAVES US IN A FIERY DREAM
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IT’LL BE A KLANSMAN
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WHO WILL WIPE THIS COUNTRY CLEAN
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THIS, SON, IS MY DREAM
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