| It’s a long row of zeros,
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| shining in that dashboard light,
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| another millions miles in some rental cars,
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| another highway in the night.
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| another day, another week, another month,
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| away from my family,
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| but I’ll be lying if I told you,
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| there’s somewhere I rather be.
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| Living in roadhouses and automobiles,
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| There’s a poor boy hunting june bugs,
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| And I know just how he feels.
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| Living out of suitcases,
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| Living out of fantasy,
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| There won’t be nothing left, when this road gets done,
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| with me.
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| Vers 2:
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| Now it’s a long road that brings me here,
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| a lot of pain and folks (left) behind,
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| and if the music hadn’t pulled me through,
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| I’d have probably lost my mind.
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| I bet (hope) my woman she understands it,
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| our little daughter understands it too,
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| they both love me for who I am,
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| and separable from what I do.
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| I’m a stranger to my children,
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| I’m a stranger to myself, sometimes,
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| but that don’t mean it’s just another sad song,
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| to read between the lines.
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| Between the lines it’s just…
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| Vers 1 (repeated) (some words added):
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| a long road of zeros,
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| shining in that dashboard lights,
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| another millions miles in some rental cars,
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| another highway in the darker night.
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| another day, another week, another month,
|
| away from my family,
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| but I’ll be lying if I told you,
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| there’s somewhere I rather be. |