| I waited till the rain stopped coming down
|
| Pulled off from the overpass
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| Wet from head to toe
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| And I haven’t seen the exit for this town
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| In 7 years or more, I feel
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| A burn hit my soul
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| The house looks pretty good painted all in white
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| But you’d hate the way they did the yard
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| And overstated fence
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| I can’t remember what you said that night
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| But I remember what you wore that day
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| The light shined through your dress
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| Just an inch of flesh it bared
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| Was enough to turn me on
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| Your hands on your hips
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| Your body young and tone
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| My mind is so lonely
|
| Now that you’re gone
|
| From there…
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| I forgot to say I love you
|
| Telling you now won’t do us any good
|
| If there’s a God that’s up above you
|
| Hope he treats you better than this world could
|
| Better than it could
|
| You’d be proud of the man that our son’s become
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| He makes more money than I do
|
| And he married John last spring
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| The pages of my story here are done
|
| The road was long and dark at first
|
| But I wouldn’t change a thing
|
| And life has dealt so many cards
|
| My gambling now is curbed
|
| And we’re driving cross this desert
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| With your ashes in an urn
|
| Cause we always said we’d see the country
|
| When we’re old as dirt
|
| Now here we are…
|
| I forgot to say I love you
|
| Telling you now won’t do us any good
|
| If there’s a God that’s up above you
|
| Hope he treats you better than this world could
|
| Better than it could
|
| I forgot to say I love you
|
| Telling you now won’t do us any good
|
| If there’s a God that’s up above you
|
| Hope he treats you better than this world could
|
| Better than it could
|
| Now I’m the singer on the stage
|
| It’s a job, but maybe it’s not
|
| And I’ve finally come of age
|
| My dad and I are in some parking lot
|
| This Winnebago’s done it’s time
|
| Crossed every state border line
|
| Played quiet and played loud
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| My mom she would be proud
|
| I thank you both I was allowed to be
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| The singer on the stage… |