| It all started in this little town
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| Way down in Texas
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| When I first heard old Johnny Cash
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| Singing prison blues
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| I picked my guitar like a fool
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| And read them country magazines
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| Keeping up to snuff on the Music City news
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| One Sunday morning found me there
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| On the streets of Nashville
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| Humming out the chorus to my latest melody
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| Well I whooped into old Tootsie’s bar
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| And told them local pickers
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| I’d done come to capture Music City, U.S.A
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| Can’t you hear the music ringing
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| Can’t you hear the singers singing
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| Can’t you hear somebody humming on my homemade melody
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| The lost and found are searching here
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| And some new face from everywhere
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| Is come to capture Music City, U.S.A
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| One Sunday evening found me Lord
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| In a corner booth at Limebaugh’s
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| Drinking black coffee and eating chili
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| Like Marty Robbins and Earnest Tubb
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| Set there tuning up my guitar
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| Lord, I couldn’t wait until Monday morning
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| Figured if I couldn’t make it then nobody could
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| Well the years have come and gone
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| I’m still here in Nashville
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| Stumbling up and down 16th and 17th Avenue
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| Bugging everybody here
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| That I can get to stop and listen
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| Trying hard to do all the things
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| I told my mom and dad that I was going to do
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| Can’t you hear the music ringing… |