| Well I’ve heard those city singers singin 'bout how they can love
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| Deeper than the oceans higher than the stars above
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| Well I come from the country and I know I ain’t seen it all
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| But I heard that oceans salty and the stars they sometimes fall
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| But that would not do justice to the way I feel for you
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| So I have to sing this song about all the things I knew
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| My love is deeper that the holler, stronger than the rivers
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| Higher than the pine trees growin’tall upon the hill
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| My love is purer than the snowflakes that fall in late December
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| And honest as a robin on a springtime window sill
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| And longer than the song of the Whippoorwill
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| From the backroads to the broadway shows with a million miles between
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| There’s a least a million love songs that people love to sing
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| And everyone is different and everyone’s the same
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| So this is just another way of sayin’the same thing
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| My love is deeper that the holler, stronger than the rivers
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| Higher than the pine trees growin’tall upon the hill
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| My love is purer than the snowflakes that fall in late December
|
| And honest as a robin on a springtime window sill
|
| And longer than the song of the Whippoorwill
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| My love is deeper that the holler, stronger than the rivers
|
| Higher than the pine trees growin’tall upon the hill
|
| My love is purer than the snowflakes that fall in late December
|
| And honest as a robin on a springtime window sill
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| And longer than the song of the Whippoorwill |