| Sweet like Sunday she said goodnight
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| In my old t-shirt and summer blue eyes
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| She doesn’t know that by morning light
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| I’ll be gone
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| Every heartache is tragic when it’s finally done
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| Even the moon cries at night for the sun
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| I stopped on the bridge where the Red River runs
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| And looked back to the past
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| Red dirt you’ve been slipping through my fingers
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| I may be crazy now to leave her
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| But I need something more to make me stay, that won’t wash away
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| Like me and her and red dirt
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| God knows it hurts me that I let her down
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| But my dreams and my plans are too much for that town
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| I look at the clock, she probably knows it by now
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| I’d better drive
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| Before I change my mind
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| Red dirt you’ve been slipping through my fingers
|
| I may be crazy now to leave her
|
| But I need something more to make me stay, that won’t wash away
|
| Like me and her and red dirt
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| We were younger
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| Caught in the heat of September
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| When we laid down in that red dirt
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| But I’ve got to learn how to live in the now
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| Gotta do without that
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| Red dirt you’ve been slipping through my fingers
|
| I may be crazy now to leave her
|
| But I need something more to make me stay, that won’t wash away
|
| Like me and her and red dirt
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| I’m gunna miss that red dirt |