| Some people dream of what they may be
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| Where they may go, what they may see
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| Just down road around the band
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| Oh, but me, I dream of where I’ve already been
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| I dream in blue jeans, ol' Fords
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| Boxe fans, Porsche
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| Cotton growin' up to your knees
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| I dream in Mississipi moon
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| Past Mason Jar Fireflies
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| William Faulkner, ol' New Orleans
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| The only Paris for me is in West Tennessee
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| If I’m never other when I lay down to sleep
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| I dream in Church,
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| Ain’t you never 'round, oh no
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| I dream in Southern
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| I’ve hung my hat in so many places
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| I’ve seen the beauty in so many faces that don’t feel like home
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| But that’s alright
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| 'Cause every time I close my eyes
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| I dream in blue bell, ice cream
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| Momma call me through the screen
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| Someone’s almost ready to hit
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| I dream in football, Graceland
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| Barbecue in Alabama sand swippin' up my feet
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| If I can spend my time in sweet Carolina
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| Don’t take too long for join us back on my mind
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| I dream in symphonies of trains and crickets
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| Where’s always Christmas for summer
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| I dream in Southern
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| They say you can’t go back
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| But I can always come back
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| I dream in blue jeans, ol' Fords
|
| Boxe fans, Porsche
|
| Cotton growin' up to your knees
|
| I dream in Mississipi moon
|
| Past Mason Jar Fireflies
|
| William Faulkner, ol' New Orleans
|
| The only Paris for me is in West Tennessee
|
| If I’m never other when I lay down to sleep
|
| I dream in Church,
|
| Ain’t you never 'round, oh no
|
| I dream in Southern
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| Oh yeah
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| I dream in Southern |