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Whoa, lookin' back at my background |
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Tryin' to figure out how I ever got here |
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Some things are still a mystery to me |
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While others are much too clear |
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I'm just livin' in the sunshine |
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Stay contented most of the time |
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Yeah listenin' to Murphy, Walker and Willis |
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Sing me their Texas rhymes |
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Most of the people who retire in Florida |
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Are wrinkled and they lean on a crutch |
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And mobile homes are smotherin' my Keys |
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I hate those bastards so much |
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I wish a summer squall would blow them all |
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The way up to fantasy land |
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Yeah, they're ugly and square, they don't belong here |
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They looked a lot better as beer cans |
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Yeah, and that's why it's still a mystery to me |
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Why some people live like they do |
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So many nice things happenin' out there |
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They never even seen the clues |
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Whoa but we're doin' fine, we can travel and rhyme |
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I know we been doin' our part |
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Got a Caribbean soul I can barely control |
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And some Texas hidden here in my heart |
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Well, now I might have joined the Merchant Marine |
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If I hadn't learned how to sing |
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And on top of all that I got married too early |
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'Cost me much more than a ring |
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But now those crazy days are over |
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Just gotta learn from the wrong things you done |
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I came off the rebound, started lookin' around |
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Figured out it's time to have a little fun |
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Yeah, and that's why it's still a mystery to me |
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Why some people live like they do |
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So many nice things happenin' out there |
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They never even seen the clues |
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Whoa but we're doin' fine, we can travel and rhyme |
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I know we been doin' our part |
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Got a Caribbean soul I can barely control |
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And some Texas hidden here in my heart |
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Well, now if I ever live to be an old man |
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I'm gonna sail down to Martinique |
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I'm gonna buy me a sweat-stained Bogart suit |
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And an African parakeet |
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And then I'll sit him on my shoulder |
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And open up my trusty old mind |
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I gonna teach him how to cuss, teach him how to fuss |
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And pull the cork out of a bottle of wine |
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Yeah, and that's why it's still a mystery to me |
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Why some people live like they do |
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So many nice things happenin' out there |
|
They never even seen the clues |
|
Yeah, but we're doin' fine, we can travel and rhyme |
|
I know we been doin' our part |
|
Got a Caribbean soul I can barely control |
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And some Texas hidden here in my heart |
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Yeah, got a Caribbean soul I can barely control |
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And some Texas hidden here in my heart |