| You don’t know me where I live
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| My tracks may soon go everywhere
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| Because there ain’t no other place for them to go
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| Where I dwell outside of now
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| For me that’s really hard to say
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| Like sometimes I’m not really sure I even know
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| What’s the difference being different
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| When it’s difference now that looks alike
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| You say I’m changing, I’m not sure that’s wrong
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| It’s just the centerline on this highway runs up my guitar neck
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| And I feel somehow that it’s natural to be gone
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| What crazy patterns do we follow
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| Sittin' knee to knee upon some riverbank
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| Somewhere at suppertime
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| The evening air is moving like molasses
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| Towards sticky night
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| So easy as I as I press your hand in mind
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| You seem a little colder
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| When I say I must be leaving
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| What an ugly way for us to let it end
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| What’s the use in being worried
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| 'Cause I’m goin' in an hour
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| When the time is running out that we could spend
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| What’s the difference being different
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| When it’s difference now that looks alike?
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| You say I’m changing, I’m not sure that’s wrong
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| It’s just the centerline on this highway runs up my guitar neck
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| And I feel somehow that it’s natural to be gone
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| There’s no season in my mind
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| That I can count on for an answer
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| I’ve dug too many holes expecting snow
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| I’m not sure to where I’m headed
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| How I’ll ride and who I’m with
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| If I’ll return or when I think that I might go
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| What’s the difference being different
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| When it’s difference now that looks alike
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| You say I’m changing, I’m not sure that’s wrong
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| It’s just the centerline on this highway runs up my guitar neck
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| And I feel somehow that it’s natural to be gone |