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Folks in Nashville slammed the door |
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Said we don't want you anymore |
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Find your own way down the road |
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Pack your fiddle and your guitar |
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Take a train or take a car |
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Find someone else to keep you from the cold |
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Rollin' and ramblin' |
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Women loved him half to death |
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He sang with whiskey on his breath |
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His heart broke like a child's |
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Rollin' and ramblin' |
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The sun has set out on the trail |
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The hobo's drifted up the rail |
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He's taken his last ride |
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Oh, he always sang the blues |
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Like it was all he ever knew |
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He didn't sing at all that night |
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He was pale and as he dozed |
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He didn't know his time had closed |
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Slumped in the back seat to the right |
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Rollin' and ramblin' |
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Women loved him half to death |
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He sang with whiskey on his breath |
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His heart broke like a child's |
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Rollin' and ramblin' |
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The sun has set out on the trail |
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The hobo's drifted up the rail |
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He's taken his last ride |
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So they send him on night train South |
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Through the cities and the rural routes |
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Just one more place to go |
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Ah, the whistle sang the bluest note |
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Like it came from his own throat |
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Moanin' sad and cryin' low |
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Rollin' and ramblin' |
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Women loved him half to death |
|
He sang with whiskey on his breath |
|
His heart broke like a child's |
|
Rollin' and ramblin' |
|
The sun has set out on the trail |
|
The hobo's drifted up the rail |
|
He's taken his last ride |
|
Rollin' and ramblin' |
|
The sun has set out on the trail |
|
The hobo's drifted up the rail |
|
He's taken his last ride |