| It’s just an old beat up truck,
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| Some say that I should trade up Now that I got some jangle in my pocket.
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| But what they don’t understand
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| Is it’s the miles that make a man.
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| I wouldn’t trade that thing in for a rocket.
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| What they don’t know is my dad and me-
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| We drove her out to Tennessee
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| And she’s still here and now he’s gone
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| So I hold on.
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| It’s just an old beat up box,
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| Its rusty strings across the top
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| It probably don’t look like much to you.
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| But these dents and scratches in the wood,
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| Yeah, that’s what makes it sound so good.
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| To me it’s better than brand new.
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| You see this here flat top guitar,
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| Has had my back in a million bars
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| Singing every country song
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| So I hold on.
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| To the things I believe in My faith, your love, our freedom
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| To the things I can count on To keep me going strong
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| Yeah, I hold on, I hold on.
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| Like the stripes to the flag,
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| Like a boy to his dad
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| I can’t change who I am, right or wrong
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| So I hold on.
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| Yeah, baby, looking at you right now,
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| There ain’t never been no doubt
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| Without you I’d be nothing
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| So if you ever worry about
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| Me walking out
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| Yeah, let me tell you something.
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| I hold on.
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| I hold on.
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| Can you hear me, baby?
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| I hold on Yea,
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| I hold on,
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| To the things I believe in My faith, your love, our freedom
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| To the things I can count on To keep me going strong
|
| To the things I believe in My faith, your love, our freedom
|
| To the things I can count on To keep me going strong
|
| Yeah, I hold on,
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| I hold on,
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| I hold on and on and on and on and on.
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| I hold on and on and on and on and on. |