| San Diego’s Somewhere south of Fresno
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| I think the golden gate’s in San Francisco
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| It looks like Tahoe’s cold
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| But I wouldn’t know, I’ve never been
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| But I’ve seen a postcard now and then
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| The area code she’d be calling from
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| But I never get her ring down here in Austin
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| I wonder if she’s ok
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| God, I’d love to hear her say she’s coming home
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| It doesn’t seem that long ago
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| I could see her blue eyes from the front porch
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| She was waving good bye and slammed the car door
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| Like the texas wind
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| Put the pedal to the floor and kicked up dust
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| And every angry word that I couldn’t take back
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| Every kiss and touch they were gone like that
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| If I had a chance I would have stole her map and tore it up
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| And now I wouldn’t know so much about California
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| But when she finds a little cafe in Mendocino
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| Or the sunset Santa Barbara she won’t let me know
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| It haunts me here instead
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| Round and round my head it’d sure be nice
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| To change the channel in my mind
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| I could see her blue eyes from the front porch
|
| She was waving good bye and slammed the car door
|
| Like the Texas wind
|
| Put the pedal to the floor and kicked up dust
|
| And every angry word that I couldn’t take back
|
| Every kiss and touch they were gone like that
|
| If I had a chance I would have stole her map and tore it up
|
| And now I wouldn’t know so much about California
|
| I could see her blue eyes from the front porch
|
| She was waving good bye and slammed the car door
|
| Like the Texas wind
|
| Put the pedal to the floor and kicked up dust
|
| And every angry word that I couldn’t take back
|
| Every kiss and touch they were gone like that
|
| If I had a chance I would have stole her map and tore it up
|
| And now I wouldn’t know so much
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| No I wouldn’t know so much
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| About California |