| There’s an old troubadour up on a barstool
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| Dim-lit strangers out on a dance floor
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| Double Blackjack whiskey floatin' on Coke and ice
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| Lonesome steel guitar cryin' through the conversation
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| In this roadside, county line, dive location
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| Ladies' half price, two-for-one Tuesday night
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| It’s where the lost and lonely go
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| It’s where the endless cold beer flows
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| Music plays, and the healing starts
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| For the lonesome, blue, broken neon hearts
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| The boys in the band are layin' down Whitley
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| Late night slow dance to «Miami, My Amy»
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| One more round till the lights come on
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| Some folks say it’s a hole in the wall
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| Come on in, in here you see it all
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| Late last call, then we take it on home
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| It’s where the lost and lonely go
|
| And the endless cold beer flows
|
| Music plays and the healing starts
|
| For the lonesome, blue, broken neon hearts
|
| It’s where the lost and lonely go
|
| And the endless cold beer flows
|
| The music plays and the healing starts
|
| For the lonesome, blue, broken neon hearts
|
| The lonesome, blue, broken neon hearts |