| I’ve been walking Matagorda Bay, thinking about you the whole day
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| Hot Texas sand under my feet and the waves of the gulf crush the beach
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| This hot sun has got a way of making my beer cold
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| Just like sun burnt children have got a way of making me feel old
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| And all these honeymooners, man I’m feeling alone
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| So I’m picking up seashells, waiting on you to come back home
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| I’ve been walking Matagorda Bay, thinking about you the whole day
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| Hot Texas sand under my feet and the waves of the gulf crush the beach
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| Well the sun is glaring and the people are staring and the seagulls are singing
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| along
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| And I don’t know when I’m gonna see you, but I know I’m waiting way too long
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| I’ve been walking Matagorda Bay, thinking about you the whole day
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| Jump in my boat, I’m heading out to the flats
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| I’ve got my fly rod in hand, wading through the cool sea grass
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| I’ve got not luck, spottin' tail and reds
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| I’ve got no damn luck, getting you out of my head
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| I’ve been walking Matagorda Bay, thinking about you the whole day
|
| Hot Texas sand under my feet and the waves of the gulf crush the beach
|
| Well the sun is glaring and the people are staring and the seagulls are singing
|
| along
|
| And I don’t know when I’m gonna see you, but I know I’m waiting way too long
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| I’ve been walking Matagorda Bay, thinking about you the whole day |