| Well, I ain’t the kind to sip on fancy wines
|
| That high class sort of living ain’t on my mind
|
| Got no worries about what people say
|
| You ain’t gonna turn my skies from blue to gray
|
| I might get up in the morning
|
| I might sleep till the afternoon
|
| I might howl at the moon all night
|
| I might whistle a sad old tune
|
| You can think just what you wanna think
|
| And it ain’t gonna make me blue
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| You might know everybody
|
| But you don’t know me
|
| Well, the money I got in my pocket
|
| Just a couple of dollars in change
|
| I ain’t worried about the New York Stock Exchange
|
| Don’t need no politician
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| Telln' me what to watch on my TV
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| Repeat Chorus
|
| Well, people might try to tell me
|
| Son, what you’re doin' ain’t right
|
| You can’t be playin' that guitar every night
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| But my daddy, he once told me, son
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| You gotta do it, if it feels good
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| If you die doin' what you love
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| Then you done what you should
|
| Repeat Chorus
|
| You might know everybody
|
| But you don’t know me |