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<h2> The Little Old Log Cabin </h2>
<p>When a man gits on his uppers in a hard-pan sort of town,<br/>
An' he ain't got nothin' comin' an' he can't afford ter eat,<br/>
An' he's in a fix for lodgin' an' he wanders up an' down,<br/>
An' you'd fancy he'd been boozin', he's so locoed 'bout the feet;<br/>
When he's feelin' sneakin' sorry an' his belt is hangin' slack,<br/>
An' his face is peaked an' gray-like an' his heart gits down an' whines,<br/>
Then he's apt ter git a-thinkin' an' a-wishin' he was back<br/>
In the little ol' log cabin in the shadder of the pines.<br/>
<br/>
When he's on the blazin' desert an' his canteen's sprung a leak,<br/>
An' he's all alone an' crazy an' he's crawlin' like a snail,<br/>
An' his tongue's so black an' swollen that it hurts him fer to speak,<br/>
An' he gouges down fer water an' the raven's on his trail;<br/>
When he's done with care and cursin' an' he feels more like to cry,<br/>
An' he sees ol' Death a-grinnin' an' he thinks upon his crimes,<br/>
Then he's like ter hev' a vision, as he settles down ter die,<br/>
Of the little ol' log cabin an' the roses an' the vines.<br/>
<br/>
Oh, the little ol' log cabin, it's a solemn shinin' mark,<br/>
When a feller gits ter sinnin' an' a-goin' ter the wall,<br/>
An' folks don't understand him an' he's gropin' in the dark,<br/>
An' he's sick of bein' cursed at an' he's longin' fer his call!<br/>
When the sun of life's a-sinkin' you can see it 'way above,<br/>
On the hill from out the shadder in a glory 'gin the sky,<br/>
An' your mother's voice is callin', an' her arms are stretched in love,<br/>
An' somehow you're glad you're goin', an' you ain't a-scared to die;<br/>
When you'll be like a kid again an' nestle to her breast,<br/>
An' never leave its shelter, an' forget, an' love, an' rest.<br/></p>
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