| If it’s not where you’re from
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| But what you had where you happened to come from
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| More or less I’d say that I had none
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| Eatin' and drinkin' would be all that I do
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| And if it’s not what you do
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| But what you got, then I got less
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| And out of loving or playing, I like loving the best
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| Now baby, take me with you when you go
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| Take me to the bridge where the rivers collide
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| Down in Cairo, Illinois on a Saturday night
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| I might jump in
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| Everyone wants to hear a song
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| That helps the day seem half as long
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| But I’m trying
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| I want you to see that I’m trying, babe
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| If you’ve lost your ticket to paradise
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| Or you spent your money for the bus
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| It’s cold coffee in the morning, slow trumpet at dusk
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| Now baby, catch that old midnight train
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| I want you to hear that I’m trying, babe
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| Down by the levee
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| Where you swear God’s got you shamed
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| Just cast your doubts and the mistakes that you’ve made
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| Into that old wishing well, well well well well
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| Don’t the river look lonesome at twilight?
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| Well, there ain’t no looking back
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| It’s just a broken fiddle and an old tote sack
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| In the morning you’ll be going south
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| I want you to feel like I’m trying, babe, oh yes, I want you to know that I’m
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| trying |