| Lookin' at the faces starin' back at me
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| Stage lights are blindin', they’re reminding me
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| Of playin' on my bedroom floor
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| Mama’s back against the door
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| Sayin', «Baby, won’t you sing me one more song»
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| Drivin' and my song comes on the radio
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| It brings me back to days when I didn’t know
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| If anybody’d even show
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| And was it worth the miles I drove?
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| 'Cause no one knows my name in Toccoa
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| No one knows quite how this thing goes
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| There’s no right way to chase it
|
| After all the booze and tears and patience
|
| I’m an overnight sensation
|
| Thirteen years in the makin'
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| Don’t wonder anymore if my dad’s proud of me
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| 'Cause now he’s standin' side of stage singin' my melodies
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| I remember him askin' me
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| «Why're you wastin' your degree
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| For a couple part-time jobs and a dream?»
|
| No one knows quite how this thing goes
|
| There’s no right way to chase it
|
| After all the booze and tears and patience
|
| I’m an overnight sensation
|
| Thirteen years in the makin'
|
| There’s no map for this damn promised land
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| No blueprint, there’s no master plan |
| And no way of knowin' if, or how, or when
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| Sometimes I miss the days when I was seventeen
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| Wasn’t worried about the money or singin' out of key
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| But I set my course for the unknown
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| Worked my fingers to the bone
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| Hurt like hell goin' through it then
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| Lookin' back I’d do it all again
|
| No one knows quite how this thing goes
|
| There’s no right way to chase it
|
| After all the booze and tears and patience
|
| I’m an overnight sensation
|
| I’m an overnight sensation
|
| Thirteen years in the makin' |