| Brewton Alabama at The Colonial Inn
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| Hot day old orange juice and vodka on the night stand
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| There’s a Chevy Nova with the seat burned out the back
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| From a Winston cigarette that was thumped into the window
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| Bobby Long was like Zorba the Greek
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| Side-tracked by the scent of a woman
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| Could’ve been an actor on the movie screen
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| Stayed in Alabama just a dreamer of dreams
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| He played football against W.S.Neil
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| Should’ve seen him running down the field
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| I grow old I grow old. |
| I wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled
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| It’s a love song for Bobby Long
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| A love song for Bobby Long
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| He was a handsome man he had Cherokee cheekbones
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| A fair haired boy where did he go wrong
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| He chose the road less traveled made all the difference
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| Now he’s chastised criticized he don’t make no sense
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| Brewton called him crazy said Bobby Long was nothing but a drunk
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| But all the thoughts in his head was way passed anything they done thunk
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| It’s a love song for Bobby Long
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| A love song for Bobby Long
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| But don’t get me wrong Bobby Long wasn’t no good
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| He’d drag you down if he thought he could
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| Well he would drag you down
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| The road I ride will be the death of me
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| Won’t you come along stay
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| The road I ride is gonna set me free
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| It’s gonna take me home
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| He was a friend of my papa’s
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| He used to drink and tell lies
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| Praised Flannery O’Connors
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| Smoked cigarettes and philosophized
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| So here I am at The Colonial Inn
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| Me and Captain Long and my pretty girl-friend
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| Oh he charms her with a poem
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| Then he brakes down and cries
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| Smiles a crooked smile with his broken cheek-bone side
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| Tells about his life now he’s 63
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| He looks me in the eyes and says come and go with me
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| He could walk on water walk on water
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| But you know he drowned himself in wine
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| God and the devil, God and the devil
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| God and the devil along inside his mind
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| It’s a love song for Bobby Long
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| A love song for Bobby Long |