| I woke up this morning to the hummin' of the engines
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| Haulin' nature’s finest from the Gulf of Mexico
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| Riding this ol' river is peaceful but it’s lonesome
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| And it makes me wonder how the old folks are at home
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| Now the years have blown by me like the wind through the pines
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| But the song of the south is ever sweet as homemade wine
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| Oh, how I miss those mountains when the laurels are in bloom
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| And the southern stars are dancin' 'round the North Carolina moon
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| Just rolled through Memphis, I could hear them guitars palyin'
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| They had the blues so so bad it almost broke my heart
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| But it don’t sound nothing like a band of tree frogs singin'
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| When every now and then they get in tune with grandpa’s harp
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| Now the years have blown by me like the wind through the pines
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| But the song of the south is ever sweet as homemade wine
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| Oh, how I miss those mountains when the laurels are in bloom
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| And the southern stars are dancin' 'round the North Carolina moon
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| Now when I die boys, make me this promise
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| You’ll send my body back up North Carolina way
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| I don’t want no tombstone, just lay me next to mama
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| And let the honeysuckle grow wild upon my grave
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| Now the years have blown by me like the wind through the pines
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| But the song of the south is ever sweet as homemade wine
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| Oh, how I miss those mountains when the laurels are in bloom
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| And the southern stars are dancin' 'round the North Carolina moon
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| Yeah, the southern stars are dancin' 'round the North Carolina moon
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| North Carolina moon
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| Oooh, oooh, oooh, oooh |