| They still listen to high school football
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| On the radio in West Texas
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| The lights still shine bright
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| Every Friday Night
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| And you can drive 90 miles an hour
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| Down the highway straight through Sisco
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| The cops are at the ball game, its gettin’tight
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| And the sky gets wider and wider
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| You disappear like the day
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| Into the Great Divide you fade away
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| Its another world all together
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| In the middle of God’s country
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| Smells like money, smells like shit, yea it smells like hell
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| But when the cattle’s all together
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| And the pump-jacks all are movin'
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| And the cotton’s all in bloom
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| And it smells like nothin’else
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| And the sky gets wider and wider
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| Just like a brand new day
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| Out in the Great Divide you fade away
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| Its the land of my people
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| Dreamers come out here to find a bigger piece of sky
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| Its all the winners and all the losers
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| Real good people, just like you and I Yea but nothin’s really changed much
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| As you drive down I-20
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| Mexicans still work out in the field
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| And everybody’s dirty
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| Man, their all just a bunch of gamblers
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| And some got rich, but their gamblers still
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| ANd the sky gets wider and wider
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| Today’s gunna be your day
|
| Out in the Great Divide you face away
|
| Its the land of my people
|
| Dreamers come out here to find a bigger piece of sky
|
| Its all the winners and all the losers
|
| Real good people, just like you and I They still listen to high school football
|
| On the radio in west Texas
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| Lights still shine bright every Friday night |