| Trying to remember the very last time
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| I felt a simple thing going fast
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| Was it the day in north Georgia
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| When you were trying to take a bath?
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| She sees the day lilies post inside
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| And the tears spring to her eyes
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| You turn the car around and your headed back down that track
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| She’s had a heart attack
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| But the bottle of Jack sits on the counter like the devil she knows
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| And he beats her up as she fills her cup
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| And the embers of a dying fire glow
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| See how she looked in her school year book
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| Her friends signed ‘imagine' all around
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| But would you stay in touch you know I miss you so much
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| I hope we get out of this town
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| Every day that you get up and force your cards
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| Playing your story in fits and starts
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| Take your prospects and your pickax and you trudge down to the stream
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| And you bloody your hands digging for your dream
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| I went looking for the answers from someone I heard believes that life gets
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| easier
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| And you learn how to breathe and you learn how to grieve your past
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| You study the masters and their books
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| Giving in to the barbs and hooks
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| Till you accept it with grace when your true love doesn’t last
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| Every day that you get up and force your cards
|
| Playing your story in fits and starts
|
| Take your prospects and your pickax and you trudge down to the stream
|
| And you bloody your hands digging for your dream
|
| Every day that you get up and force your cards
|
| You’re playing your story in fits and starts
|
| Take your prospects and your pickax and you trudge down to the stream
|
| And you bloody your hands digging for your dream
|
| Take your prospects and your pickax and you trudge down
|
| Take your prospects and your pickax and you trudge down
|
| Take your prospects and your pickax and you trudge down |