| I’ll get your text about 3 am, when I cross back over the border again
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| Bye-bye Canada Hello USA
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| Those lefties sure make a lot of sense, and sometimes it’s nice to feel good in
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| my skin
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| But I’d trade it all for some Southern hospitality
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| I know that you don’t like me
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| But it sure feels good anyway
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| I’m gonna tell them boys, «Don't be a drag, ain’t ya tired of fightin' 'bout
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| the damned ol' flag?»
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| Well it ain’t Southern pride, it’s just Southern hate
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| I know from your mamas that you’re better than that, every time I call,
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| well you have my back
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| Some time for Muddy Buddies and a tall glass of sweet tea
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| I know that you don’t like me
|
| But it sure feels good anyway
|
| I’ve got gravel from the road in the bottom of my boot
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| The kiss that you left still burning thru
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| I can’t rest ‘til get back home to you
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| When I left the last words that were out of your mouth, were
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| «How can you live in the backwards south — Devil in the roots and Jesus on the
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| wine?»
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| Cause it feels fine
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| I was born in the grist of a rebel yall, swaddled in the song of the
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| whip-poor-will
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| They haunt me and they hold me just the same
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| But it’s an ounce of comfort, for a pound of grief
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| I just wanna sit on the porch with you and hear the tall pines creak
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| Still sweating in September when that sun goes down
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| I know that you don’t like me
|
| But it sure feels good anyway |