| I got these aching Bossier City backyard blues
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| Been rolling cigarettes with holes in both of my shoes
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| Trying to write a song that fits just me and you
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| I got these aching Bossier City backyard blues
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| This is just the song to try and check my wit
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| If I tried to write our storybook the name just wouldn’t fit
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| That songs just tailor made for me and you
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| I got these aching Bossier City backyard blues
|
| I got these aching Bossier City backyard blues
|
| Rolling cigarettes with holes in both of my shoes
|
| Trying to write a song that fits just me and you
|
| I got these aching Bossier City backyard blues
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| I could write a song about my buddy Tom
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| But he’d probably write a song about a line that I used wrong
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| He’s diction and his grammar are the best
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| And the world will never let a genius rest
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| I got these aching Bossier City backyard blues, Lord
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| Rolling cigarettes with holes in both of my shoes
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| Trying to write a song that fits just me and you
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| I got these aching Bossier City backyard blues
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| Sittin' in this backyard I can see it now
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| All the country music fans are going to think I changed my style
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| So I’ll just head jerk my mind on back to you
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| And try these aching Bossier City backyard blues
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| I got these aching Bossier City backyard blues
|
| Rolling cigarettes with holes in both of my shoes
|
| Trying to write a song that fits just me and you
|
| I got these aching Bossier City backyard blues |