| Maggie’s up each morning at four a. |
| m
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| By five at the counter at the diner
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| Her trucker friends out on the road
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| Will soon be stopping in
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| As the lights go on at Cafe Carolina
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| Maggie’s been a waitress here most all her life
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| Thirty years of coffee cups and sore feet
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| The mountains around Ashville
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| She’s never seen the other side
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| Closer now to fifty than to forty
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| Maggie’s never had a love
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| She said she’s never had enough
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| Time to let a man into her life
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| Aw, but Maggie has a dream
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| She’s had since she was seventeen
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| To find a husband and be a wife
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| --- Instrumental ---
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| Maggie knows the truckers most by first name
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| What they’ll have to say
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| And what they’ll order
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| And they take her in their stories to places far away
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| And leave her with the dishes, dreams and quarters
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| Maggie’s never had a love
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| She said she’s never had enough
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| Time to let a man into her life
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| Aw, but Maggie has a dream
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| She’s had since she was seventeen
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| To find a husband and be a wife
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| And she relies upon the jukebox
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| On the lonely afternoon
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| When the business starts to slow down
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| She plays the saddest tunes
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| And she stares off down the highway
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| And she wonders where it goes
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| Nobody to go home to
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| And it’s almost time to close |