| He was a boy who was a dreamer and he flew so high and proud
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| In a world full of people out to cut his young ass down
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| No one ever understood a single word, he said
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| And they cast him to the wolves when he wasn’t well and fed
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| But boys we’ve got a riser, a riser in our midst
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| And he will get the last laugh if it’s the last thing he did
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| And he used to roll around in that red dirt mud
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| But now he’s skipping town and that riser’s out for blood
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| Don’t stop goin', goin' south
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| 'Cause they’ll let you play your music real damn loud
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| Don’t stop headin', headin' south
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| 'Cause they will understand the words that are pouring from your mouth
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| And that boy, he called his daddy to tell him what he did
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| As the masses screamed the lyrics of a messed up kid
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| And then he told that old man he was never coming back
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| To be cut down again in a town like that
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| And then he surely came to learn people come to watch you fall
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| But he’s out to make a name and a fool out of 'em all
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| And they’ll never understand that boy and his kind
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| 'Cause all they comprehend is a fucking dollar sign
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| So don’t stop goin', goin' south
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| 'Cause they’ll let you play your music real damn loud
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| Don’t stop headin', headin' south
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| 'Cause they will understand the words that are pouring from your mouth
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| Don’t stop goin', goin' south
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| They will understand the words that are pouring from your mouth
|
| Don’t stop goin', goin' south
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| 'Cause they’ll let you scream your music real damn loud |