| He was just eighteen
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| Full of fire and gasoline
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| He was lean and mean
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| And they called him Texas
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| He went off to war
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| To a far and distant shore
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| He’d never left his home before
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| He was from Texas
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| As they stormed that beach one foggy summer day
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| He said if I don’t make it back promise me one thing
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| Take me home if I die
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| When I’m gone don’t ya cry
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| Find some shade right beside a live oak tree
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| Sing those old songs of faith
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| I’ll fly away amazing grace
|
| But you find comfort knowing that my soul found peace
|
| And you can bury me beneath the deep blue skies of Texas
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| Well she was just eighteen
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| Prettiest thing he’d ever seen
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| Like a real life beauty queen
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| And someday she’d be his wife
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| But for the next four years
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| She fought back her tears
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| While he fought back his fears
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| Fighting for his life
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| And in his darkest hours
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| Her love would bring him a light
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| He would read her letters
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| He would pray at night
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| Take me home if I die
|
| When I’m gone don’t ya cry
|
| Find some shade right beside a live oak tree
|
| Sing those old songs of faith
|
| I’ll fly away amazing grace
|
| But you find comfort knowing that my soul found peace
|
| And you can bury me beneath the deep blue skies of Texas
|
| He always said the real heroes
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| Never made it back home
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| And though the war was long over
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| You know for him it still lived on
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| And it still lives on
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| When he was eighty-three
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| Still full of fire and gasoline
|
| He was still lean and mean
|
| And they still called him Texas
|
| And on the day he died
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| She was right there by his side
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| She held his hand as she softly sang his lullaby
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| Take me home if I die
|
| When I’m gone don’t ya cry
|
| Find some shade right beside a live oak tree
|
| Sing those old songs of faith
|
| I’ll fly away amazing grace
|
| But you find comfort knowing that my soul found peace
|
| And you can bury me
|
| You can bury me
|
| You can bury me beneath the deep blue skies of Texas |