| A little creek you could spit across
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| Jimmy and me each took one more toss
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| Our spinners bright in the evening air
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| People always said, There ain’t no fish in there
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| Well grownups they ain’t always right
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| Jimmy and me walked home slow that night
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| Right down Main Street in our P.F. |
| Fliers
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| With two 5 lb. bass making grown men liars
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| Jimmy if I had known-
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| I might have stopped fishing right then
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| It’s just as well we don’t know
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| When things will never be that good again
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| A hayride on an Autumn night
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| Well we was 15 if I remember right
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| We were far apart at the start of the ride
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| But somehow we ended up side by side
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| We hit a bump and she grabbed my arm
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| The night was as cold as her lips were warm
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| I shivered as her hand held mine
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| And then I kissed her one more time
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| And Jane if I had known-
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| I might have stopped kissing right then
|
| It’s just as well we don’t know
|
| When things will never be that good again
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| She was older than me I guess
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| Summer was invented for her to wear that dress
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| I knew about risk and she knew about proof
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| And that night she took me up on the roof
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| We could see the lights of the little towns
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| We could watch the August stars come down
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| Shooting stars, meteorites-
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| We went on a ride through the sky that night
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| And, oh, if I had known-
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| I’d do it all over again
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| Some things just get better and better
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| And better than they’ve already been |