| Baby, I’m not waiting
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| I’m just holding on to good
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| It’s still early, it’s still more than I should
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| I’m off to Carolina
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| I’m gonna wear my mama’s boots
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| We may be parted, but that don’t cut us at the roots
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| 'Cause in the morning, in the morning
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| Sometimes I think about the way you held me
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| In the morning, in the morning
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| Sometimes I think about the way you held me
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| It’s colder in November
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| The leaves are turning on the limbs
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| The color’s brightest just before the branches thin
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| And, yes, I still remember
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| But I am trying to begin
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| I met a new love and I’m growing into him
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| But in the morning, in the morning
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| Sometimes I think about the way you held me
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| In the morning, in the morning
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| Sometimes I think about the way you held me
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| I see a new flag rising on an old flagpole
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| A shotgun fired in the firing hole
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| I’ll let the snow keep falling till my world is white
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| I don’t need your hand tonight
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| But in the morning, in the morning
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| Sometimes I think about the way you held me |