| I don’t like to go down to flats
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| 'Cause I can’t park on a hill
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| Instead getting a rolling start
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| I have to pay the bill.
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| I guess I need that city life
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| It sure has lots of style
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| But pretty soon it wears me out
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| And I have to think to smile.
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| I’m thankful for my country home
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| It gives me peace of mind
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| Somewhere I can walk alone
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| And leave myself behind.
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| It’s only someone else’s potatoes
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| You pickin' someone else’s patch
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| And if you go down there anyway
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| It very seldom lasts.
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| I found that out once long ago
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| And it sure got me confused
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| I still don’t know which way to go To lose those old spud blues.
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| I’m thankful for my country home
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| It gives me peace of mind
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| Somewhere I can walk alone
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| And leave myself behind. |