| He’s an old hand at fixing cars and bailing hay
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| And there’s nothing he can’t do on that old farm
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| He’s tougher than leather for a man his age
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| But he’s 21 when she’s lying in his arms
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| She’s and old hand at baking bread and washing clothes
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| And rocking little babies to sleep
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| But the calloused hands are softer than the morning rose
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| And she always seems to know just what he needs
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| When old hands hold hands
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| With just a touch they understand
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| Life and love and making plans
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| 'Cause they’re old hands
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| They’ve pulled a load together down a long hard road
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| And they both know that their journey will end
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| But they won’t be afraid when it’s their time to go
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| 'Cause chances are they’ll just go hand in hand |