| I guess I learned it from my granddad
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| I little the shirts with the pearl snaps and
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| Id die in boots if it was up to me and bury me in blue jeans
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| Couldn’t be a cowboy im a hundred years late ima six string poet and a radio
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| slave
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| I never asked for too many things just bury me in blue jeans
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| And i know i know theres so far to go got the roots of an oak and a tumbleweed
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| so when my times upall this good 'ol boy needs is to bury me in blue jeans
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| Im a brother im a son im a dad
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| Im a thankful one for everything i have
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| Im not gonna regret the past when they bury me in blue jeans
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| And i know i know theres so far to go got the roots of an oak and a tumbleweed
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| so when my times up all this good 'ol boy needs is to bury me in blue jeans
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| Something faded and worn in the knees
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| Fits like a glove and frayed at the seams
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| And throw this old guitar in there please when you bury me in blue jeans
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| Woah, woooah, woooah, woaaaah
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| Woah, woooah, woooah, woaaaah
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| Woah, just give me so far to go, woaaaaah, oh give me so far to go, woaaaah,
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| if you can’t here me now, wooaaahh, give me so far to goooo, woaaaah,
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| just give me blue time and oak, woaaaah, i got a tumbleweed so too far too far
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| so goo
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| So far to goooooo. |
| woahhhhh woahhhh, woaaaaahhhhhhhh |