| Well I come from a place where the bluegrass grows
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| Where the rivers run and the music flows
 | 
| And I carry it with me everywhere I go
 | 
| Cause underneath my skin
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| Well I’ve really always been
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| Just a boy who comes from where the bluegrass grows
 | 
| Well the first sound I remember as a little barefoot boy
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| Was my daddy’s Martin guitar and a five string banjo
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| Skipping stones on Cripple Creek and climbing up Foggy Mountain
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| And finding my way home to the sound of the banjo
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| And oh how sweet that sound
 | 
| Well I come from a place where the bluegrass grows
 | 
| Where the rivers run and the music flows
 | 
| And I carry it with me everywhere I go
 | 
| Cause underneath my skin
 | 
| Well I’ve really always been
 | 
| Just a boy who comes from where the bluegrass grows
 | 
| Well I learned to play that guitar and I set out on the road
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| But I never would’ve dreamed all the places I’d go
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| From the Opry stage to Carnegie my simple songs have carried me
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| But I come right back home when I hear a banjo
 | 
| And oh how sweet that sound
 | 
| Well I come from a place where the bluegrass grows
 | 
| Where the rivers run and the music flows
 | 
| And I carry it with me everywhere I go
 | 
| Cause underneath my skin
 | 
| Well I’ve really always been
 | 
| Just a boy who comes from where the bluegrass grows
 | 
| Where the bluegrass grows
 | 
| And oh how sweet that sound
 | 
| Well I come from a place where the bluegrass grows
 | 
| Where the rivers run and the music flows
 | 
| And I carry it with me everywhere I go
 | 
| Cause underneath my skin
 | 
| Well I’ve really always been
 | 
| Just a boy who comes from where the bluegrass
 | 
| I come from where the bluegrass
 | 
| I’m just a boy from where the bluegrass grows |