| Me and Dad would ride around all day shooting doves off
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| The line in a Chevrolet.
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| Old lab would jump out the back and fetch ‘em up Wed drive for miles and miles and never once hit black
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| Top or change the dial
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| One little country station was all there was.
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| Checking gates, and fixing fence rows, that’s how my Story goes
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| (Pre-chorus)
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| If you want to know the real me, just turn the page in My dirt road diary, it’s right there for you to see,
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| Every kiss, every beer, every cotton field memory.
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| (Chorus)
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| Tan legs and some Dixieland delight, riding ‘round,
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| Windows down on a summer night, I was there, that was
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| Me, it’s right here in my dirt road diary
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| (2nd verse)
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| I remember when I turned 16, I got a license and some
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| Gasoline
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| Ain’t a curve or a straight-away, we didn’t fly down,
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| If it wasn’t the boys, it was me and here, by a fire in A field or down by the river,
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| Every inch of that county was sacred ground.
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| I wish I knew where that ol' truck was, if it could
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| Speak it would tell on us.
|
| (Pre-chorus)
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| If you want to know the real me, just turn the page in My dirt road diary it’s right there for you to see every
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| Beer every kiss every cotton field memory.
|
| (Chorus)
|
| Tan legs and some Dixieland delight, riding ‘round,
|
| Windows down on a summer night, I was there, that was
|
| Me, it’s right here in my dirt road diary
|
| (Bridge)
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| It aint a book underneath my bed, just a dusty memory
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| Lane, in my head, yeah
|
| (Chorus)
|
| Tan legs and some Dixieland delight, riding ‘round,
|
| Windows down on a summer night, I was there, that was
|
| Me, it’s right here in my dirt road diary, just ride
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| Around this little town and you’ll see, how I wrote my Dirt road diary. |