| Ain’t nothing fancy bout how I talk
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| It’s a little bit slow full of ain’ts and y’alls
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| Somewhere between some old school straight and McGraw
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| I know you ain’t ever been south of heaven
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| But if you give me a red dirt chance I’m betting
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| This one red light, two lane guy will grow on you
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| I can’t be California
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| But I can be your palm tree shade in the middle of summer
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| Your tin roof rain, covered from the thunder
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| Your back pew hallelujah Sunday morning prayer
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| Yeah, I’ll be where
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| You can go when you know that it’s all spinning too fast
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| Slow kind of road, 35 on the dash
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| A dot on the map for your heart when you need to slow down
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| You be my whole world, I’ll be your small town
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| You got me up all night like New York city
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| You got the Beverly high heels, dressed kinda pretty
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| And every time I hold you I get to go there
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| So when you want a little bit of middle of nowhere
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| But I can be your palm tree shade in the middle of summer
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| Your tin roof rain, covered from the thunder
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| Your back pew hallelujah Sunday morning prayer
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| Baby I’ll be where
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| You can go when you know that it’s all spinning too fast
|
| Slow kind of road, 35 on the dash
|
| A dot on the map for your heart when you need to slow down
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| You be my whole world, I’ll be your small town
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| Yeah, I’ll be your small town
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| I’ll be your Friday night, misery light midnight sixer
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| You be the shooting star, I’ll be the wisher
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| That back road flying wind blowing through your hair
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| I just wanna be where
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| You can go when you know that it’s all spinning too fast
|
| Slow kind of road, 35 on the dash
|
| A dot on the map for your heart when you need to slow down
|
| You be my whole world, I’ll be your small town
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| Girl, you be my whole world
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| And I’ll be your small town
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| I’ll be your small town |