| I was born on a blue lane highway line
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| Runnin' up and down Mississippi’s crooked spine
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| I’ve been gone too long
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| It’s high time I made time for this
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| A hundred miles south of Graceland’s gate
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| Just see me comin' from the volunteer state
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| With a homesick heart and magnolia plates
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| Off exit two-oh-six
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| It all gets to be too much
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| My soul feels out of touch
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| I get in my beat up ride and drive I-55
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| I fill up on old friends
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| Get back to where it all began
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| I always leave feelin' more alive, I-55
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| Rest my arm on the windowsill
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| Breathin' in them old pine hills
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| An the midnight smoke from the paper mills
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| To the stars off Lilly Road
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| This little lake town is all we got
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| But I love it most for what it’s not
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| And them kids in the Chainey’s parking lot
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| That was me ten years ago
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| When it all gets to be too much
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| My soul feels out of touch
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| I get in my beat up ride and drive I-55
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| I fill up on old friends
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| Get back to where it all began
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| I always leave feelin' more alive, I-55
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| And I never can stay
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| As long as I want to
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| And now Ma moved away
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| But the one thing I won’t do
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| Is forget where I come from
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| You bet I’ll always run
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| Back down that old familiar stretch of interstate
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| When it all gets to be too much
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| My soul feels out of touch
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| I fill up on old friends
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| Get back, get back, to where it all began, all began, yeah
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| Oh and I drive, and I drive, and I drive, and I drive, and I drive |