| Busted flat in Baton Rouge, heading for the trains
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| Feeling nearly faded as my jeans
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| Bobby thumbed a diesel down just before it rained
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| Took us all the way to New Orleans
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| Took my harpoon out of my dirty red bandana
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| And was blowing sad while Bobby sang the blues
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| With them windshield wipers slapping time and
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| Bobby clapping hands we finally sang up every song
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| That driver knew
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| Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose
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| And nothing ain’t worth nothing but it’s free
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| Feeling good was easy, Lord, when Bobby sang the blues
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| And buddy, that was good enough for me
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| Good enough for me and my Bobby McGee
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| From the coalmines of Kentucky to the California sun
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| Bobby shared the secrets of my soul
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| Standing right beside me through everything I done
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| And every night she kept me from the cold
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| Then somewhere near Salinas, Lord, I let her slip away
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| She was looking for the love I hope she’ll find
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| Well I’d trade all my tomorrows for a single yesterday
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| Holding Bobby’s body close to mine |