| Intro:
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| Yeah, and this one right here is dedicated to all the road warriors.
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| To everybody who got to go out on the road every year to make they money,
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| the spring and the fall. |
| The 45 city tours. |
| We in Idaho one night and Portland,
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| Oregon the next day. |
| Up in Anchorage Alaska and then Australia for three weeks.
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| It’s like this…
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| Verse One:
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| I got my bags packed
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| Backpack sittin' by the front door
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| Ipod, lab top, socks and drawers
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| The stuff that you need when you’re out on tour
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| Home for one month then gone for two more
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| I’m a rolling stone that’s gathering green
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| Cause my poems is known for packin' in teens
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| And from
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| Show to show I’m glad to be seen
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| But my home is home I’ll lackin' that steam
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| But on the real
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| I got some bills to pay
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| My cable just got shut off the other day
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| Voicemail, got a million messages to play
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| Homies and the haters got a whole lot to say
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| And oh, I just love it because my life’s so public
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| My business is in the streets and they think nothing of it And no I’m not complainin'
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| I’m a keep campaignin'
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| Till I reach my goal or I go insane
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| Chorus:
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| The road is my religion
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| I’ma keep on sinnin'
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| Hope to God I’m forgiven for the way that I’m livin'
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| The woes and the women and the wheels keep spinnin'
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| Still I won’t be forgiven for the way that I’m livin'
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| Verse Two:
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| I’m on a Delta Continental American flight
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| And I won’t be long so you know I pack light
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| But still I might miss and the way that I kiss you
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| Gotta know that I love you cause I left my heart with you
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| The night before I leave for a couple of weeks
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| Hear you cryin' in your sleep
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| Taste the tears on your cheek
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| It’s sweet but it’s bitter
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| The emotion that it triggers
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| Makes me miss my woman and her home cooked dinner
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| I wish I never had to leave
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| Perform for these crowds with my heart on my sleeve
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| But you still believe
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| And they say you naive
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| So I gotta keep the faith with every breath that I breathe
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| It needs to be said that it’s just not easy
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| Every night different city, different women want to please me I keep it true and I walk on through
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| Say my prayers and go to sleep after talkin' to you
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| Chorus
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| Verse Three:
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| Standin' at the truck stop watchin' this
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| Redneck truck drivers look at me and spit
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| I’m like
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| This is it?
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| This is the life that I chose?
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| A hundred days at home
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| Two hundred days on the road
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| But I guess I’m addicted
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| Because I really start to miss it Don’t know what I’m chasin' but I know I gotta get it It ain’t about fame or a couple of dames
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| Or a million different faces with a thousand different names
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| It ain’t about praise or the hands being raised
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| To me it just a job and I’m glad that it pays
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| And when the road starts to call in the spring and the fall
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| If I don’t holla back then my skin starts to crawl
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| And when I get that itch I gotta pack my bags
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| Dress up or go home
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| Hotels and jet lag
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| Can’t lose my religion cause it’s all that I have
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| I keep runnin' worldwide till I run out of gas
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| Chorus
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| Outro:
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| I’m so so sorry. |
| To each and every girl I didn’t call back, after we spent the
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| night together. |
| But you’re beautiful, I love you. |
| Man, you don’t know about me.
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| Mr. Dibbs! |