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....... |
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My old man had some stories |
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He told them all the time |
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He was a wild bastard in a former life |
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And it carried into mine |
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It broke my heart what he said to me |
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In a call in the middle of the night |
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Said, "I hope you know I'm proud of you son |
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And by the way, I'm running out of time" |
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It was my birthday when I got the news |
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A greyhound ticket and some orphan blues |
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Got my girl to feed the dog so I could go back home |
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The place was still a mess just like the day I left |
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Only difference being him not around now to leave it alone |
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There was a half cup of coffee and some hot rod magazines |
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That shitty little radio on oldies 93 |
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I put on a suit and combed my hair |
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Bought a bottle of whiskey and made my way there |
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To pay my respects to that sweet old bastard of mine |
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Saw some busted rope on an apple tree |
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Just a vague idea of what it used to be |
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Blowing free in the cemetery breeze |
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I held my distance from the sad eyed crowd |
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And the box that just carried somebody now |
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While my old man's ghost was having a drink somewhere |
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My mama blew town when I was 3 |
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And he did his best to stick around for me |
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I hope he knows I love him for that |
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Giving up that wild life for me |
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........ |