| She stepped off of the boat to see flowers in his hands
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| The man she would marry was as hard as the mountains
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| She had his children in a log cabin
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| Soon I’d be another star in this family’s constellation
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| In the land of the midnight sun
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| Searching for gold
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| I am my father’s daughter
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| He has his mother’s eyes
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| I am the product of her sacrifice
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| I am the accumulation of the dreams of generations
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| And their stories live in me like holy water
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| I am my father’s daughter
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| My father raised me in an old log cabin
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| And he sang for me the songs his mother sang to him
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| In honky-tonks, and empty bars, just me and him
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| And that old guitar
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| He passed on a legacy wrapped up in a melody
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| And I carry on
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| Searching for gold
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| I am my father’s daughter
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| I have his eyes
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| I am the product of his sacrifice
|
| I am the accumulation of the dreams of generations
|
| And their stories live in my like holy water
|
| I am my father’s daughter
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| And every time I step on stage
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| And the music finds me
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| I don’t need gold to remind me
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| I am my father’s daughter
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| I have my Grandma’s eyes
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| I am the product of such sacrifice
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| I am the accumulation of the dreams of generations
|
| And their stories live in me like holy water
|
| I am my father’s daughter
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| Oh, I am my father’s daughter |