| I still remember Miss Bessie singing
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| Black, wrinkled fingers on ivory keys
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| Just five years old, my church shoes a-dangling
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| Yeah, she’s long gone and I’m still chasing this song
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| With a guitar full of freedom and a head full of lines
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| That nightlife full of demons has been a hell of a ride
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| I got a crazy heart, but I was born to lose it
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| Married to a dream with a mistress named music
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| No hope and squarely solitary
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| Enough whiskey and Coke, boys, to get me in a bind
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| Amps juiced, the whole damn block could hear me
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| Even that cop car rolling past
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| By the time they hit the front door
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| I was out the back
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| With a guitar full of freedom and a head full of lines
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| That nightlife full of demons has been a hell of a ride
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| I got a crazy heart, and I was born to lose it
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| Married to a dream with a mistress named music
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| White calloused fingers on bronze and nylon
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| These same old boots are still tapping time
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| Not quite the buzz I used to tie on
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| But 'til I’m gone, I’ll be chasing this song
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| With a guitar full of freedom and a head full of lines
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| That nightlife full of demons has been a hell of a ride
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| I got a crazy heart, and I was born to lose it
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| Married to a dream with a mistress named music
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| Yeah, I’m married to a dream with a mistress named music |