| Kids out driving saturday afternoon just pass me by
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| And I’m just savoring familiar sights
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| We share some history, this town and I
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| And I can’t stop that long forgotten feeling of her
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| Try to book a room and stay tonight
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| Number one is to find some friends to say «you're doing well»
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| After all this time you boys look just the same
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| Number two is the happy hour at one of two hotels
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| Settle in to play «do you remember so and so?
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| Number three is never say her name
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| Oh the flame trees will blind the weary driver
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| And there’s nothing else could set fire to this town
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| There’s no change, there’s no pace Everything within its place
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| Just makes it harder to believe that she won’t be around
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| But oh who needs that sentimental bullshit, anyway
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| Takes more than just a memory to make me cry
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| And I’m happy just to sit here a table with old friends
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| And see which one of us can tell the biggest lies
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| And there’s a girl falling in love near where the pianola stands
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| With a young local factory auto worker just holding hands
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| And I’m wondering if he’ll go or if he’ll stay
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| Do you remember, nothing stopped us on the field
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| In our day
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| Oh the flame trees will blind the weary driver
|
| And there’s nothing else could set fire to this town
|
| There’s no change, there’s no pace
|
| Everything within its place
|
| Just makes it harder to believe that she won’t be around
|
| Oh the flame trees will blind the weary driver
|
| And there’s nothing else could set fire to this town
|
| There’s no change, there’s no pace
|
| Everything within its place
|
| Just makes it harder to believe that she won’t be around |