| I just cut the string
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| On a dusty old shoe box
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| And opened a door to the past
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| Now I’m sittin' here with my souvenirs
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| And these faded old photographs.
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| Fightin' back tears
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| Lookin' back through the years
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| And wonderin' why dreams fade so fast
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| Now the young boy I see
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| Don’t look like the me
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| Reflected in this old looking glass.
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| The man in the mirror
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| Sees things so much clearer
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| Than the boy in the pictures
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| With his eyes full of dreams
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| Oh, the men that I’ve tried to be
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| From fifteen to forty-three
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| Never believed that they’d end up like me.
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| There’s that touchdown I caught
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| Back when I thought
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| I’d play for the cowboys someday
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| There’s you holding me in my faded fatigues
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| Comin' home to the U.S.A.
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| One after another
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| All my sweet dreams and lovers
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| Pass before my tear filled eyes
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| Pictures of a fool
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| Who was selfish and cruel
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| Till the day he made you say goodbye.
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| The man in the mirror
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| Sees things so much clearer
|
| Than the boy in the pictures
|
| With his eyes full of dreams
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| Oh the men that I’ve tried to be
|
| From fifteen to forty-three
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| Never believed that they’d end up like me.
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| Oh, I never believed I’d be lonely like me… |