| Yes, I knew it all along that I’d have to go back home
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| 'Cause this living on the road, ah, it makes me tired and sore
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| Like a bird without a nest, like a stranger in the night
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| And my soul must have its rest but the end is not in sight.
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| Like that sweet magnolia wine, honey, dripping from your mouth
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| And the little gal of mine, she’s the finest in the South
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| And the nights are getting longer and the days are getting colder
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| And I wanta go back home, yeah, lay my head down on your shoulder.
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| Yes, I knew it all along that I’d have to go back home
|
| 'Cause this living on the road, ah, it makes me tired and sore
|
| Like a bird without a nest, yeah, like a stranger in the night
|
| And my soul must have his rest but the end is not in sight
|
| And my soul must have his rest but the end is not in sight
|
| And my soul must have his rest but the end is not in sight |