| I miss your house on the hill
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| The one with your room on the right
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| I miss your voice, you’re the only one with it
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| It reminds me of what used to be mine
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| I miss you in Chattanooga
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| I drive through there all the time
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| And I listen to you when I feel like crying
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| It reminds me of what used to be mine
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| I miss your shirt that didn’t fit right
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| I’ve worn it to sleep once or twice
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| I try not to go where I first met you
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| It reminds me of what used to be mine
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| I only see you on occasion
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| Some form of you, not in real life
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| Right now your picture’s all over Atlanta
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| No matter which way that I drive
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| It reminds me of what used to be mine
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| You remind me of what used to be mine |