| Lights out, lines down, water on the rise
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| Ain’t been dry in I don’t remember
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| Swimming in trouble straight up to my eyes
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| No sign of mercy from this really cold weather
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| Cocaine talkers and workout walkers
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| And everybody wearing those hip wade boots
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| Dog is a-moanin', momma keeps a-phonin'
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| Wind pulled the sycamore up by the roots
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| Tell you what’s sweeter than wine and is thicker than blood
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| There ain’t nothing left to do but roll around in the Tennessee mud
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| Axes grindin', the chainsaw’s whinin'
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| The cherrypicker’s blocking the road
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| All of our possessions pulled from the wreckage
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| Feel like I’m about to explode
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| Tell you what’s sweeter than wine and is thicker than blood
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| There ain’t nothing left to do but roll around in the Tennessee mud
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| Oh one hell of a season, the toppled down trees in the flood
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| There ain’t nothing left to do but roll around in the Tennessee mud
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| They say misfortune favors those who work the land with two strong hands
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| I’m gonna float away on a shotgun double
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| Take you up onto the roof
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| Some people just know how to bring it on home
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| Baby I’m living proof
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| Tell you what’s sweeter than wine and is thicker than blood
|
| There ain’t nothing left to do but roll around in the Tennessee mud
|
| Oh one hell of a season, the toppled down trees in the flood
|
| There ain’t nothing left to do but roll around in the Tennessee mud |