| I could be hitting my limit in an old duck blind
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| On a flood rise field in the delta sunrise
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| With a few good back-home buddies I ain’t seen in a while
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| Or I could be standing knee-deep with my toes in the sand
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| On a Carolina coast with a pole in my hand
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| Reeling in reds, popping tops, and dropping limes
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| Ya I reckon there’s a chance but chances are
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| I’m probably at a bar
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| And drinking 'bout you
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| And driving this heart like I got nothing left to lose
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| I could be anywhere under the sun, over the moon
|
| But chances are I’m probably at a bar
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| We were seventh inning stretching at a July Braves game
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| Watching those fireworks high above the highway
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| When you kissed me, you knocked me right out of the park
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| These days I’m just wondering where you are
|
| But me
|
| I’m probably at a bar
|
| And drinking 'bout you
|
| And driving this heart like I got nothing left to lose
|
| I could be anywhere under the sun, over the moon
|
| But chances are I’m probably at a bar
|
| I could be anywhere in the world
|
| But chances are I’m probably at a bar
|
| Drinking 'bout you
|
| And driving this heart like I got nothing left to lose
|
| I’m probably at a bar
|
| And drinking 'bout you
|
| And driving this heart like I got nothing left to lose
|
| I could be anywhere under the sun
|
| Over the moon but chances are
|
| I could be anywhere getting over you
|
| But chances are I’m probably at a bar
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| I’m probably at a bar |