| Hollywood don’t do what it once could do
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| I used to wake up
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| And write me a song before noon
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| So I packed my dusty bags one night
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| Grabbed an old guitar
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| And I caught a red-eye flight
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| In search of a dream underneath
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| The Tennessee moon
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| I fell in love to an old Hank Williams tune
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| Makes me wonder
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| Is it the same moon Hank played under?
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| Touched down
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| And she stole my heart right away
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| Began to think for the first time
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| I might stay
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| And when I heard
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| That lonesome whistle moan
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| Knew I’d fin’ly found my way back home
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| In search of a dream underneath
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| The Tennessee moon
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| I fell in love to an old Hank Williams tune
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| And I wonder
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| Is it the same moon Hank stood under
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| When he sang about jambalaya
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| And bein' lonesome enough to cry?
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| And I can hear the echoes
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| In the sounds of his guitar
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| And his words still paint
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| A picture in my heart
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| Yeah, in search of a dream underneath
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| The Tennessee moon
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| I fell in love to an old Hank Williams tune
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| I was in search of a dream underneath
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| The Tennessee moon
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| Yes, I fell in love
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| To an old Hank Williams tune |