| I fried in the sun just outside San Bernadino
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| Flagged me a ride in a rattletrap ford
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| Rollin' back east to the northern border
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| I’m back in town to find my favorite folk
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| But nobody knows…and nobody cares
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| 'Cause nobody plays here, nobody stays here
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| Nobody lives here anymore
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| I drift by the winos near the greyhound station
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| Searching for shelter like a castaway
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| But there are lookers and lechers in a pagan bookstore
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| That once held a home where I could sing and play
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| Nothing is left but the faded street signs
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| To tell me that I knew this place before
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| 'Cause nobody plays here, nobody stays here
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| Nobody lives here anymore
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| Everyone warned me not to look for memories
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| Nothing at all ever remains the same
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| Now I’m turning around, I’m rollin' back home
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| Leaving no one behind that will remember my name
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| But nobody knows…and nobody cares
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| 'Cause nobody plays here, nobody stays here
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| Nobody lives here anymore
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| © Black Leather Music, Inc. (BMI) |