| That western bull on Levi blue jean jacket
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| That vintage vinyl I keep in the attic
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| My rusty beat-up Bronco
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| Built in 1982
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| That long and lonesome whistle from a freight train
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| The sound of a touchdown from a homeward-bound plane
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| The wind and the rain
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| The sun and the moon
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| It all comes back around
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| It all comes back around
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| Why can’t you?
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| And even that old country fare
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| Rolls through town every year
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| And I just wish you were here
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| To see that Ferris wheel spinning
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| It’s crazy how a town that’ll never change
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| Could never be the same without you in it
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| Those lat-night hangs, baseball games, and fishing trips
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| That six-pack summer, can’t blieve how fast it went
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| They say that memories fade
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| But the good ones never good
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| They all come back around
|
| They all come back around
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| Why can’t you?
|
| Even that old country fare
|
| Rolls through town every year
|
| And I just wish you were here
|
| To see that Ferris wheel spinning
|
| It’s crazy how a town that’ll never change
|
| Could never be the same without you in it
|
| I know you had to go when the good Lord called your name
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| But as crazy as it sounds, still catch myself these days
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| Thinking you’ll come back around
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| It all comes back around
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| Why can’t you? |
| Oh
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| It all comes back around
|
| Why can’t you?
|
| It all comes back around
|
| Why can’t you? |