| Sometimes you dream, sometimes it seems
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| There’s nothing there at all
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| You just seem older than yesterday
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| And you’re waiting for tomorrow to call
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| You draw to the curtain and one thing’s for certain
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| You’re cozy in your little room
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| The carpet’s all paid for God bless the TV
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| Let’s go shoot a hole in the moon
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| And Roy Rogers is riding tonight
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| Returning to our silver screens
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| Comic book characters never grow old
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| Evergreen heroes whose stories were told
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| Oh the great sequin cowboy who sings of the plains
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| Of roundups and rustlers and home on the range
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| Turn on the TV, shut out the lights Roy Rogers is riding tonight
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| Nine o’clock mornings, five o’clock evenings
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| I’d liven the pace if I could
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| Oh I’d rather have a ham in my sandwich than cheese
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| But complaining wouldn’t do any good
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| Lay back in my armchair, close eyes and think clear
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| I can hear hoof beats ahead
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| Roy and Trigger have just hit the hilltop
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| While the wife and the kids are in bed
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| And Roy Rogers is riding tonight
|
| Returning to our silver screens
|
| Comic book characters never grow old
|
| Evergreen heroes whose stories were told
|
| Oh the great sequin cowboy who sings of the plains
|
| Of roundups and rustlers and home on the range
|
| Turn on the TV, shut out the lights Roy Rogers is riding tonight |