| Always been a fighter scrapper and a clawer
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| Used up some luck in lawyers
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| Like huck from tom sawyer jumped on my raft
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| And shoved off chasing my dreams
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| Reeling in big fishes
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| I had some hits a few big misses
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| I gave em hell and got a few stitches
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| And these days I show off my scars
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| With one arm around my baby
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| And one arm around my boys
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| A heart that’s still pretty crazy
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| And a head that hates the noise
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| If the world comes knockin
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| Tell em I’m not home
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| I’m finally holdin my own
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| I’ve burned up the fast lane
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| Dodging drugs and divorce
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| If I’m proof of anything
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| God sure loves troubadour
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| Sometimes late at night
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| I miss the smoke and neon
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| Sneak out of bed grab a six string
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| Play what’s still turnin me on
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| Like that tight old time rock n roll
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| Or that right down home country gold
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| I miss blues and soul
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| But not more than I miss being home
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| With one arm around my baby
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| And one arm around my boys
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| A heart that’s still pretty crazy
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| And a head that got sick of the noise
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| If the world comes knockin
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| Wondering where I’ve gone
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| Tell em I’m holdin my own
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| Till I run out of time
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| I’m gonna spend the rest of mine
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| With one arm around my baby
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| And one arm around my boys
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| A heart that’s still pretty crazy
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| And a head that just got sick of the noise
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| If the world comes knockin
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| Tell em I’m not home
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| Finally holdin my own
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| And when my time on earth is done
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| I want they write it on my stone
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| I lived loved and died holdin my own
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| I lived loved and died holdin my own |