| He was more than just a drifter
|
| An angel in disguise
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| In a worn-out leather jacket
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| Where he used to make his home
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| His luggage was the bags beneath his eyes
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| And we’re ridin' on, ridin' on
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| With a sense of decency
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| Secure in insecurity
|
| And we’re ridin' on, ridin' on
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| I should’ve told him
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| I loved him ridin' next to me
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| Ridin' next to me
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| He was sorta antisocial
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| Didn’t know from mediocrity
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| We never entertained the notion
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| That he and us could be
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| Only just a memory
|
| And we’re ridin' on, ridin' on
|
| With a new desire
|
| We shoulda tried and make 'em see
|
| And we’re ridin' on, ridin' on
|
| I shoulda told him
|
| I loved him ridin' next to me
|
| Ridin' next to me
|
| Ridin' next to me
|
| Ridin' next to me
|
| We’ll be ridin'
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| So fine, the sands fall through your fingers
|
| Before you know they’re history
|
| But still I find he’s on my mind
|
| The separation, he took a little part of me
|
| But we’re ridin' on, ridin' on
|
| I must admit it
|
| Through all the painful memories
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| We’ll be ridin' on, ridin' on
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| I miss the comfort
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| I miss him ridin' next to me
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| Ridin' next to me
|
| Ridin' next to me
|
| Ridin' next to me
|
| I miss him ridin', ridin' on
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| Ridin', ridin' on
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| Ridin', ridin' on with me, oh, yeah |