| I think about blazing heat
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| I think about small talk
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| I think about the trash piling up in the back of a truck on cinder blocks
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| I think about lawn chairs
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| Watermelon on a paper plate
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| I think about tea in a pitcher on a porch that’s drowning in sugar cane
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| Oh I think I need to catch a plane
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| Somewhere south
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| Where when they open that smile
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| They smile, that long, slow drawl falls out
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| Where I can be me getting lost in a sea of a down home crowd
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| Oh, I gotta get back down, somewhere south
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| I think about stars and bars
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| I think about stubborn pride
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| And fighting over Fords and Chevy’s
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| A war damn eagle
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| Or a crimson tide
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| And I think about amazing grace
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| And I think about raising hell
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| How walking that line’s a bitch
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| Cause every momma’s gotta switch in the bible belt
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| Oh I think I need to find myself
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| Somewhere south
|
| Where when they open that smile
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| They smile, that long, slow drawl falls out
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| Where I can be me getting lost in a sea of a down home crowd
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| Oh, I gotta get back down, somewhere south
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| Like kudzu on those pines my heart stays wrapped around
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| My roots my truth my boots, they miss their stomping grounds
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| Think they wanna run right now, somewhere south
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| I think about a pretty girl
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| Wearing my grandma’s ring
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| And I think about a baby boy
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| Carrying on my grandpa’s name
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| And I think I wanna plant that dream
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| Somewhere south
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| Somewhere south
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| Somewhere south |