| From the heart of the Southern Downs, to the North-East London reservoirs
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| From the start, the land scaped my sound, before I’d ever been to America
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| And if I knew anybody who played pedal steel guitar
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| I’d get them in my band and then my band would get real far
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| But I was raised in middle England, and not in Nashville, Tennessee
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| And the only person in my band is me
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| A simple scale on an old guitar, and a punk rock sense of honesty
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| I cannot fail, I’ve got this far with no knowledge of midwest geography
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| And if I knew anywhere where I could drive in a straight line
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| For hours in the desert, I’d drive for hours at a time
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| But I was raised in middle England, not in Nashville, Tennessee
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| And the only person in this car is me
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| And yes I’m in four-four time, and yes I use cheap cheap rhymes
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| But I try to make a sound my own
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| I know I don’t break new ground, many have travelled this sound
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| But I try to make it sound like home
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| Well I’ve been to Texas state, I didn’t think it was that fucking great
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| And Nebraska is just a bunch of songs
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| Holloway and Hampshire where I belong
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| And I don’t know anybody who plays pedal steel guitar
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| All the city roads are twisted and I do not own a car
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| I was raised in middle England, not in Nashville, Tennessee
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| And the only thing I’m offering is me |