| Ain’t but a half a mile between the city limit signs
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| Population nine hundred 'n' nine
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| A lotta front porch swingin', down home livin'
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| Friday night hell raisin', Sunday morning repentance
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| We got our gossip goin' on down at Betty’s Beauty Shop
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| They’re sellin' 90 proof corn juice out back at the co-op
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| Judge Taylor likes to fight when his potbelly’s full of beer
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| There’s always somethin' goin' on
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| But there ain’t nothin' goin' wrong around here
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| We got kids burnin' rubber 'round the old town square
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| Tall tales being told in Harry’s barber chair
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| Life moves slow
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| There’s always somethin' goin' on
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| But there ain’t nothin goin' wrong around here
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| Old men bettin' on the weather on the courthouse stairs
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| Luther wackin' off weeds in his underwear
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| They go moon skinny-dippin this time of year
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| There’s always somethin' on
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| But there ain’t nothin' goin' wrong around here
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| Other than kids burnin' rubber 'round the old town square
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| Tall tales bein' told in Harry’s barber chair
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| Life moves slow
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| There’s always somethin' goin' on
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| But there ain’t nothin' goin' wrong around here
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| Only time Sheriff Lester breaks his handcuffs out
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| Is when his wife’s been drinkin' and they’re back at the house
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| He’ll be walking' 'round for days in a daze grinnin' ear to ear
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| There’s always somethin' goin' on |