| Don’t know why they even bother putting this highway on the map
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| Everybody that’s ever been on it knows exactly where they’re at
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| Hell’s on both ends of it
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| And nowhere’s in between
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| This highway’s mean
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| Seems like it’s always hot down here, no matter when you come
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| It’s the kind of heat that holds you like a mama holds her son
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| Tight when he tries to walk, even tighter if he runs
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| It’s a mean old dusty highway
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| But it’s the only one that’ll get you there
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| That’ll get you there
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| Mean old highway
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| Stuck to the ground in Mississippi
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| It’s the one’ll set me free
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| It’s the same one that I see
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| Being ripped up off the ground and wrapped around me
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| Don’t let it fool you this highway’s mean
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| I don’t need a map to tell me where I am today
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| This feeling that I have has always led the way
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| Down here, you’re running from a broken heart
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| Or to a heart that you have to break on this mean old highway |