| I am driving up '85 in the
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| Kind of morning that lasts all afternoon
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| Just stuck inside the gloom
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| 4 more exits to my apartment but
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| I am tempted to keep the car in drive
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| And leave it all behind
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| Because I wonder sometimes
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| About the outcome
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| Of a still verdictless life
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| Am I living it right?
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| Am I living it right?
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| Am I living it right?
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| Why Georgia, why?
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| I rent a room and I fill the spaces with
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| Wood in places to make it feel like home
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| But all I feel’s alone
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| It might be a quarter life crisis
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| Or just the stirring in my soul
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| Either way--I wonder sometimes
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| About the outcome
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| Of a still verdictless life
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| Am I living it right?
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| Am I living it right?
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| Am I living it right?
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| Why Georgia, why?
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| So what, so I’ve got a smile on
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| But it’s hiding the quiet superstitions in my head
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| Don’t believe me
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| Don’t believe me
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| When I say I’ve got it down
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| Everybody is just a stranger but
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| That’s the danger in going my own way
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| I guess it’s the price I have to pay
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| Still «everything happens for a reason»
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| Is no reason not to ask myself
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| Am I living it right?
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| Am I living it right?
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| Am I living it right?
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| Why? |
| Tell me why?
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| Why? |
| Why Georgia, why? |