| She’ll be in Denver come the break of dawn
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| Her calloused heart, her regal charm
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| Will grace the city in his open arms
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| And his bed come tonight
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| But me I’m stranded down on Silver Street
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| Just throwing bottles at the Delta Queen
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| She passes slow like your memory
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| Makes the bend and float out of sight
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| Austin Texas, mattress on the floor
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| We’d buy some grass from the kid next door
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| We bitch of love as if it was a chore
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| But we made it to ease both our minds
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| First time I lost you was a mean curveball
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| Thrown in Las Vegas down a hotel hall
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| Why we stuck it out then I can’t recall
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| Seems my honesty’s always on trial
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| And I never once called you baby
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| I never once called you anything
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| I never once called you baby
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| I always thought you were more to me
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| I saw him coming with his suit and tie
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| His hair slicked back looked a lot like mine
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| But that was years ago and over time
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| Lost my scissors, my comb and my style
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| And how he watched us at the table there
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| As we caught up on our when and wheres
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| Our escapades, our life-ain't-fairs and how you’ll be leaving with him tonight
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| And I bet he calls you baby
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| I never once called you anything
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| Oh, I bet he calls you baby
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| I always thought you were more to me
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| So if I’m breathing on some solid ground
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| And what went up the river comes back down
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| Maybe we’ll meet again next time around
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| And talk of those vagabond times
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| Keep all your stubbornness and pretty smile
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| Keep all your dreams about that unborn child
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| Keep both your feet out the wedding aisle
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| Now I’ll keep you in the back of my mind |