| I’ve never had a way with women
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| But the hills of Iowa make me wish that I could
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| And I’ve never found a way to say I love you
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| But if the chance came by, oh I, I would
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| But way back where I come from we never mean to bother
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| We don’t like to make our passions other peoples concern
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| And we walk in the world of safe people
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| And at night we walk into our houses and burn
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| Iowa, Iowa, I, Iowa
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| Iowa, Iowa, I, Iowa
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| How I long to fall just a little bit
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| To dance out of the lines and stray from the light
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| But I fear that to fall in love with you
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| Is to fall from a great and gruesome height
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| So you know I asked a friend about it, on a bad day
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| Her husband had just left her, she sat down on the chair he’d left behind
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| She said, «What is love, where did it get me?
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| Whoever thought of love is no friend of mine»
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| Iowa, Iowa, I, Iowa
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| Iowa, Iowa, I, Iowa
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| Once I had everything, I gave it up
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| For the shoulder of your driveway and the words I’ve never felt
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| So for you, I came this far across the tracks
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| Ten miles above the limit, and with no seatbelt, and I’d do it again
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| For tonight I went running through the screen doors of discretion
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| For I woke up from a nightmare that I could not stand to see
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| You were a-wandering out on the hills of Iowa
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| And you were not thinking of me
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| Iowa, Iowa, I, Iowa
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| Iowa, Iowa, I, Iowa
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| Iowa, Iowa, I, Iowa
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| Iowa, Iowa, I, Iowa |