| Rain came down in endless sheets of thunder
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| Lightning bolts split pine trees down to the roots
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| In the shadow of the Astrodome
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| With a hurricane coming on strong
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| We used to hit the streets and go swimming in our birthday suits
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| Skiing in a bar ditch behind a moped
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| 13 stitches on the corner of a sardine can
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| We were dirt poor Houston kids
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| Our whole family living on the skids
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| But we always had a nickel for the coming of the ice cream man
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| Mosquito truck blowing up DDT
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| Barefoot heathens running wild and free
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| Air raid buzzer at a noon-day scream
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| Living in a dream
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| On Telephone Road
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| I used to love them cherry Cokes down at the Prince’s Drive-In
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| And the cheeseburgers tasted so good I like to come untied
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| There’s a Chinaberry tree I remember
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| I used to climb in and out of my window
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| The night I left was on the day before my Grandma died
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| Sawdust spread out on a dance hall floor
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| Jukebox ripping at an all-out roar
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| Barmaid smiling at a 10 cent tip
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| Living is a trip
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| On Telephone Road
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| Magnolia Garden bandstand on the very front row
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| Johnny Cash Carl Perkins and The Killer putting on a show
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| 6 years old and just barely off my daddy’s knee
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| When those rockabilly rebels
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| Sent the Devil running right through me A drive-in movie in the trunk of my car
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| One-eyed sailor in an ice house bar
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| Spit-shine Charlie and ol' Peg-leg Bill
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| Are dressed up fit to kill
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| On Telephone Road
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| Telephone Road, Telephone Road
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| Brabecue and beer on ice
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| A salty watermelon slice
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| At the Little Taste of Paradise
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| On Telephone Road |