| Well I was thumbin' from Montgomery
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| Had my guitar on my back
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| When a stranger stopped beside
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| Me in an antique cadillac
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| He was dressed like nineteen fifty
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| Half drunk and hollow eyed
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| He said it’s a long walk to Nashville, son would you like a ride?
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| I sat down in the front seat, he turned on the radio
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| And them sad old songs coming out of them speakers
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| Was solid country gold
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| Then I noticed the stranger was ghost white pale
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| When he asked me for a light
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| And I knew there was something strange about this ride
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| He said «Drifter can you make folks cry when you play and sing
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| Have you paid your dues, can you moan the blues
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| Can you bend them guitar strings?
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| He said «Boy can you make folks feel what you feel inside
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| 'cause if you’rr big star bound let me warn ya it’s a long hard ride.»
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| Then he cried just south of Nashville
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| And he turned that car around
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| He said «This is where you get off boy
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| Because I’m going back to Alabam
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| As I stepped out of that cadillac
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| I said mister many thanks
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| He said «you don’t have to call me mister, mister
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| The whole world called me hank
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| He said «Drifter can you make folks cry when you play and sing
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| Have you paid your dues, can you moan the blues
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| Can you bend them guitar strings?
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| He said «Boy can you make folks feel what you feel inside
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| 'cause if you’rr big star bound let me warn ya it’s a long hard ride.»
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| If you’re big star bound let me warn ya
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| It’s a long hard ride |