| Sittin' on the toolbox
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| In this short bed chevrolet
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| I come out here to the county line
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| When I need some time to think
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| And lately I’ve been thinking
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| 'Bout a boy I used to know
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| He was taken from this world
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| At twenty-one years old
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| When I look up at that photograph
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| See the smile there on his face
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| Well man it sure is hard to grasp
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| But I know he’s in a better place
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| Cause gods got a spot in heaven
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| For good ol' boys like us
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| Yea he knows wings just ain’t our thing
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| So up there they drive pick up trucks
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| And as we speak they’re probably
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| Spending tires and slinging mud
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| Yea gods got a place
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| Yea gods got a place
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| For good ol' boys like us
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| You ever get the feelin'
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| That they still hang around
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| Yea you can almost feel them
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| Though their no where to be found
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| Some people tell me son
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| It’s all in your head
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| But I say hey it’s just their way
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| Of watching over us my friend
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| Well life goes on when we lose someone
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| Cause it ain’t our time yet
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| But country folks just ain’t the kind
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| Of people to forget
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| That gods got a spot in heaven
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| For good ol' boys like us
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| Yea he knows wings just ain’t our thing
|
| So up there they drive pick up trucks
|
| And as we speak they’re probably
|
| Spinnin' tires and slinging mud
|
| Yea gods got a place
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| Yea gods got a place
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| For good ol' boys like us
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| Ohhh yeaa, for good ol' boys like us
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| When I climb up off that toolbox
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| And slide up in the seat
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| I thank god for taking care of my buddy
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| Until the next time we meet
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| Gods got a spot in heaven
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| For good ol' boys like us
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| Yea they’ve always got our backs
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| From somewhere up above
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| Because a country boy always looks out
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| For the ones that he loves
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| Yea gods got a place
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| Hey gods got a place
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| Yea gods got a place
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| For good ol' boys like us
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| Oh yea, for good ol' boys like us |