When I Get To The Border

Lucy Kaplansky

Composición de: Richard Thompson
Dirty people take what's mine 
I can leave them all behind 
They can never cross that line 
When I get to the border 

Sawbones standing at the door 
Waiting 'til I hit the floor 
They won't find me anymore 
When I get to the border 

Monday morning, Monday morning 
Closing in on me 
I'm packing up and running away 
To where nobody picks on me 

If you see a box of pine 
With a name that looks like mine. 
Say I drowned in a barrel of wine. 
When I got to the border 

A one way ticket's in my hand 
Heading for the chosen land 
My troubles will all turn to sand 
When I get to the border 

Salty boy with yellow hair 
Waiting in that rocking chair 
And if I'm weary I won't care 
When I get to the border 

Monday morning, Monday morning 
Closing in on me 
I'm packing up and running away 
To where nobody picks on me 

Dusty road will smell so sweet 
Paved with gold beneath my feet 
And I'll be dancing down the street 
When I get to the border 
And I'll be dancing down the street 
When I get to the border 
When I get to the border 
When I get to the border
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