| In the Nashville greyhound station locker 23
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| There’s an old vinyl bowling bag that once belonged to me
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| In it there are memories but I’ve misplaced the key
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| All the keepsakes held within it I may never get to see, yeah
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| Now I don’t believe in much maybe half of what I see
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| Some of what I touch like the stinger on a bee
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| Now I don’t need a book of rules to tell me what to do
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| No I don’t believe in much no but I believe in you, I believe in you
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| That mixed tape that you made me grateful dead all on one side
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| Those ticket stubs from the summer show just before Jerry died
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| Bottle caps from Orchard Beach the day you saved my hide
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| You told the cops we’re late for church we laughed until we cried
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| Now I don’t believe in much maybe half of what I see
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| Staying out of touch or insincerity
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| Being late for suppertime sugarcoating what’s not true
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| Oh I don’t believe in much, I believe in you
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| Funny how it takes losing to find out what we had
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| Sometimes it’s not about choosing more like wanting what you have
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| Oh I can’t put my hands on it it’s right behind the door
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| That photograph of both of us the way we were before
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| I’m going back to Nashville I’m gonna get that bowling bag
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| All these years of not speaking to you have really been a drag
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| I could call a locksmith but that’s not what I’ll do
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| Gonna break this vow of silence and get back in touch with you
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| You know I don’t believe in much half of what I see
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| Or staying out of touch with someone who was so close to me
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| Oh nothing that ain’t right oh nothing that ain’t true
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| You know I don’t believe in much, no
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| But after all these years I still believe in you
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| I believe in you
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| Do you believe me cause I do
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| I believe in you |