| I don’t know where I’m bound, I don’t know where I’m bound,
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| whistles calling me away, leaving at the break of day,
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| and I don’t know where I’m bound.
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| Can’t stand locks, bars, doors,
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| mean cops, insanity, and wars;
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| gotta find a place of peace,
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| until then, my traveling won’t cease,
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| but I don’t know where I’m bound.
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| There’s gotta be a place for me,
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| under some green growing tree;
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| with clear cool water running by,
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| an unfettered view of the sky,
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| but I don’t know where I’m bound.
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| When I die, don’t bury me,
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| cause then I must be free;
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| cremate my body with a grin,
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| throw my ashes to the wind,
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| cause I don’t know where I’m bound.
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| I don’t know where I’m bound, I don’t know where I’m bound,
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| whistles calling me away, leaving at the break of day,
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| and I don’t know where I’m bound.
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| Got myself a little gal,
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| she has been a downright pal;
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| that old highway’s calling me,
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| and free I gotta be,
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| but I don’t know where I’m bound, I don’t know where I’m bound.
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| I don’t know where I’m bound. |