Ann Taylor

Ann Taylor's dressed in rags
She's been livin' in a carpetbag
She got rights on an unarmed man
If you look at her you'll understand
Think of me way up there
Readin' 'bout the fore and aft
All the copper I could spare
Was poured into a shot glass

She keeps her friends real close
Tied them both to a whippin' post
One was from the Southern Sea
The other was from Kilkenny
The lunch bucket overflows
A horn of plenty out of bounds
Put away your winter clothes
'Cause we'll be movin' into town

If you want to I won't stop you
But you must leave with the one who brought you
If I'm payin' on the way in
Why can't I understand a word you're sayin'?

Somebody's burnin' leaves
Let's go close all the doors
Miss Taylor can't abide 'em
Bein' open anymore

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