| This old highway, she’s hotter than nine kinds of hell
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| And the rides, they’re as scarce as the rain
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| When you’re down to your last shuck with nothin' to sell
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| And you’re too far away from the train
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| It’s been a good month of Sundays and a guitar a go
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| I had a tall drink of yesterday’s wine
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| Left a long string of friends some sheets in the wind
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| And some satisfied women behind
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| Hey, won’t you ride me down easy?
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| Lord, ride me on down
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| Leave word in the dust where I lay
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| Say I’m easy come, easy go
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| And I’m easy to love when I stay, when I stay
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| There’s snow on the mountain, raised hell on the hill
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| I locked horns with the devil himself
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| I’ve been a rodeo bum, a son of a gun
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| And a hobo with stars in his crown
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| Hey, won’t you ride me down easy?
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| Lord, ride me on down
|
| Leave word in the dust to where I lay
|
| Say I’m easy come, easy go
|
| And I’m easy to love when I stay
|
| Hey, won’t you ride me down easy?
|
| Lord, ride me on down
|
| Leave word in the dust to where I lay
|
| Say I’m easy come, easy go
|
| And I’m easy to love when I stay
|
| Hey, won’t you ride me down easy?
|
| Lord, ride me on down
|
| Leave word in the dust where I lay |