| He was twenty-five, she was twenty-eight
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| He was home grown country, she’d just pulled off the interstate
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| She bought a Dr. Pepper, ten dollars' worth of gas
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| She was obviously lost but too afraid to ask directions
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| So he offered her a smile and a stick of Beech Nut gum
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| He said where you headed to girl, where are you coming from
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| She said
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| New Orleans but that’s another story
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| New Orleans that’s another time
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| That’s another town, that’s another life
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| First she stayed a day then she stayed a week
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| Couple of months later they were living on his parent’s street
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| He worked the station and she worked the store
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| And then they had a baby and
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| Then they had one more little Jesse
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| When she dropped the kids off at the mother’s day out
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| All the ladies had their questions
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| But they knew not to ask about
|
| New Orleans but that’s another story
|
| New Orleans that’s another time
|
| That’s another town, that’s another life
|
| Wednesday night supper at the First Baptist Church
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| Stranger standing in the doorway
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| As they’re passing out the dessert
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| He said «Go on and pack your bags
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| 'Cause I’m here to take you home»
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| I’m going back to Louisiana
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| And woman I ain’t going to go without you
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| There’s a few defining moments in every person’s life
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| When you know what you’ve done wrong
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| And you know what you’ve done right
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| And before the congregation and her husband and her kids
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| She says, «How dare you even speak to me
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| After everything you did in»
|
| New Orleans but that’s another story
|
| New Orleans that’s another time
|
| That’s another town, that’s another life
|
| That’s another town, that’s another life |