| There must be some place, for old wore out cowboys
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| Broken down pickers, and dreamers like me
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| Where the cue sticks are straight, and the beer’s always cold
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| And the jukebox is playin' Hank Williams for free
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| Well I’ve worked in pool rooms, and barrooms and bedrooms
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| From Cheyenne to Memphis, it ain’t nothing new
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| Hard bodied young cowgirls, too many state fair bulls
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| I rode 'em all 'til I’m busted and bruised
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| There must be some place, for old wore out cowboys
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| Broken down pickers, and dreamers like me
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| Where the cue sticks are straight, and the beer’s always cold
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| And the jukebox is playin' Hank Williams for free
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| I picked my guitar 'til my finger’s blistered
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| Bleedin' and sweatin', stainin' my jeans
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| They tried to whip me, but more didn’t than did
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| And I’m proud of my dues and God has 6 strings
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| There must be some place, for old wore out cowboys
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| Broken down pickers, and dreamers like me
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| Where the cue sticks are straight, and the beer’s always cold
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| And the jukebox is playin' Hank Williams for free
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| (Willie Nelson)
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| And they’ll never stay home and they’re always alone
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| Even with someone they love |