| This city’s looking like a ghost town
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| All the stores downtown they’ve been closing down
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| Yeah, the only lights that shine for miles
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| Are lighting up the sky above memorial drive
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| And if you want a seat you better come on down
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| Cause when the band fires up that old glory sound
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| This is the moment we’ve all been waiting for
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| Lining them up, and the whistle blows
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| This ain’t no game around here
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| It’s more like religion
|
| We’ve built this thing right here
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| A football tradition
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| So everybody get up
|
| And feast your eyes
|
| On the highlight of small town life
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| It’s Friday night
|
| And winning state would be a miracle
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| Man, we did it back in '54
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| And if the baptist church
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| Prayed Sunday morning
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| We might just stand a chance
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| With the help of the Lord
|
| This ain’t no game around here
|
| It’s more like religion
|
| We’ve built this thing right here
|
| A football tradition
|
| So everybody get up
|
| And feast your eyes
|
| On the highlight of small town life
|
| It’s Friday night
|
| And now the stadium’s quiet
|
| Standing here alone on this old 50 yard line
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| If I listen close I can hear battle cries
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| Of all the heroes come and gone before I was alive
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| The memories of fourth and three
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| Now that rival game is coming back to me
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| It meant more than a big state ring
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| If we could do it again it’d never be the same
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| Remember the lights and the butterflies
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| Giving it all just one last time
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| Because heroes are remembered but dragons never die
|
| This ain’t no game around here
|
| It’s more like religion
|
| We’ve built this thing right here
|
| A football tradition
|
| So everybody get up
|
| And feast your eyes
|
| On the highlight of small town life
|
| It’s Friday night
|
| Come on |