| Show me where the bible says dreaming’s a sin
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| Round here you’re supposed to die in the town you’re born in
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| If you cheat if you fight if you get knocked up
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| Lord they’ll pin you down and never let you back up
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| Some way we’ll live we’re guys that don’t make the paper
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| And a baby doctor ain’t the undertaker
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| Where there’s more to life than a bud light and cruising around
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| But this ain’t that kind of town
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| That cop’ll go at you when you ain’t done a thing
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| And pull the bottle from his pocket and have himself a drink
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| Sunday morning catching hell from a finger pointing preacher
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| I bet his misses don’t know about the Sunday school teacher
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| Some way we’ll live we’re guys that don’t make the paper
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| And a baby doctor ain’t the undertaker
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| Where there’s more to life than a bud light and cruising around
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| But this ain’t that kind of town
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| Well that road don’t end at the main street bridge
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| And I won’t stop sighing at the finish line
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| That’s where it all begins
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| That cop’ll go at you when you ain’t done a thing
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| And pull the bottle from his pocket and have himself a drink
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| Sunday morning catching hell from a finger pointing preacher
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| I bet his misses don’t know about the Sunday school teacher
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| I say woah woah woah this ain’t that kind if town
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| I say woah woah woah this ain’t that kind if town
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| I say woah woah woah this ain’t that kind if town
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| I say woah woah woah this ain’t that kind if town |