| Oh my Daddy’s from Memphis
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| He used to hunt in Arkansas
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| And then he moved to New York City
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| That’s where he met my Mom
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| He wrote his Mom & Dad a letter:
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| «I'll be a millionaire by twenty-five»
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| I don’t know which one of us dreams bigger
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| I have his heart & drive
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| And he always told me and my sisters
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| When we were scared to bait a hook
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| Girls you don’t want to be no city slickers
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| So I’m a country girl:
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| I love the trees and the flowers
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| And those well-spent hours
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| Staring up at the stars
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| Oh I’m a country girl
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| Though I live in the city
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| And those lights are so pretty
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| But I’d happily rather be
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| Sitting on the porch picking my guitar
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| Oh my Grandma was a lady
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| She always wore dress suits and pearls
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| Our favorite treat was lady fingers
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| And I have her curls
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| And my Mama’s from Australia
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| And she grew up without a Dad
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| And so she raised a home
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| That gave us what she never had
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| And on the farm where I spent my childhood
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| Riding horses and writing songs
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| I’m still that child
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| & That’s still where I belong
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| ‘Cause I’m a country girl:
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| I love the trees and the flowers
|
| Those well-spent hours
|
| Staring up at the stars
|
| Oh I’m a country girl
|
| Though I live in the city
|
| And those lights sure are pretty
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| But I’d happily rather be
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| Sitting on the porch picking my guitar
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| But I’d happily, rather be
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| Sitting on the porch picking on my guitar |