| Blackberries are ripe on Taylor Ridge
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| I’ll pick you a daisy on the way
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| Walking ties on the railroad bridge
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| Go find a spot there in the shade
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| Throw a blanket down
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| On the ground and hang
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| Got hooked up with some homemade wine
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| Hid it in the moss at the foot of the bluff
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| Later on when that old moon shines
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| We can tip it back
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| And catch a buzz by the creek
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| Beat the heat
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| Sit on that rock and let our feet hang
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| Hey baby, what do you say we take a walk
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| Get gone?
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| Maybe find a place where we can get lost
|
| Later on
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| Be one
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| With the stars in the dark
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| And hang
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| Blackberry kiss on white tan lines
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| Midnight song of the whip-poor-ill
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| Third cup of that homemade wine
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| Don’t you wanna know how that feels on out there?
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| Middle of nowhere
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| Where you can let your long, honeysuckle hair hang
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| Hey baby, what do you say we take a walk
|
| Get gone?
|
| Maybe find a place where we can get lost
|
| Later on
|
| Be one
|
| With the stars in the dark
|
| And hang
|
| Oh, baby, we can jump in, take a swim
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| Drip dry off in the night wind
|
| And hang
|
| Hey, baby, what do you say we take a walk?
|
| Maybe find a place to get lost
|
| And hang |