| If I were born to be a river
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| If a river is all I’d be
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| I’d tell the giver of all of the rivers
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| To make me the Tennessee
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| How many drops of rain roll
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| Off of how many windowpanes
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| Down to a valley low
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| Where a river like me begins to grow
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| I sing a mournful song
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| As I rush and ramble along
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| Oh dee-oh-dee-oh-dee-oh
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| Oh dee-oh-dee-oh-dee, oh
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| I bury secrets deep
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| I keep them down where the catfish creep
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| Where the rolling tide
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| Can’t reach the things that I hide
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| I hum a mournful tune
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| In the Alabama June
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| Oh dee-oh-dee-oh-dee
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| Oh dee-oh-dee-oh-dee, oh
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| And I sing
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| Oh dee, dee-dee-dee
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| Oh doo, doo-doo-doo
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| Oh oh, oh-oh-oh
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| Even the Tennessee river runs low
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| When the sky is bright and clear
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| Not a cloud above you
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| You can float in knowing, dear
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| That I was made to love you
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| When the storm is raging
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| All the light is fading
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| The river sings along with me
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| Reaching for that minor key
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| Color me blue and gray
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| River, carry me fast away
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| Flood all the rocks and grills
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| On for the mighty hill
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| I am the Tennessee
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| See you down at the stormy sea
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| Oh dee-oh-dee-oh-dee
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| Oh dee-oh-dee-oh-dee, oh
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| And I sing
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| Oh dee, dee-dee-dee
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| Oh doo, doo-doo-doo
|
| Oh oh, oh-oh-oh
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| Even the Tennessee river runs low
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| The Tennessee river runs low
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| Even the Tennessee river runs low |