| Lookin' outta my windowpane
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| Tears minglin' with the rain
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| I’m so lonesome I could cry, just like old Hank
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| Starin' down on the city street
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| Feelin' empty and incomplete
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| There’s a place I need to be to fill my tank
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| A place I can go where I can be free
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| Where I can be happy and I just be me
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| Home, where the warm wind’s blowin'
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| And the river’s flowin' along
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| Like a lazy bum in the midday sun
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| And I’ve gone fishin' with my pole at the fishin' hole
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| Where I can lay down my heavy load
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| And know that I am always welcome
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| Home
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| I left home, I was 17
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| I had a lot of ambitious dreams
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| Seen a lot of those dreams come true
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| I’ve had good luck
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| I ain’t complaining that’s for sure
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| I got a lot to be thankful for
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| One of those things is a magic door that opens up
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| Back to the time when I was a kid
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| To the sound of the crickets and the katydids
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| It’s called
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| Home
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| On the front porch swingin' and fern pots hangin'
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| Home
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| With the church bells ringin' and voices singin'
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| Those old songs that mend my mind like a stitch in time
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| Where the tea is sweet and the love complete
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| Oh me, I wanna go
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| Home
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| I often think about where I have been
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| Where I am goin' and that’s about when I think about
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| Home
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| Where the soul find comfort
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| And the heart find pleasure
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| Home
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| Where the depths of love is hard to measure it’s
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| Home
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| I hear you callin'
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| I hear you callin'
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| I’ll never be lost
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| As long as I know
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| There’s a place like that
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| Where I can go
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| Where I can restore my weary soul
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| On the mountain slopes in the soft blue smoke
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| Of home
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| Home sweet home
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| Home
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| Back to the hills with the whippoorwills
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| Of home
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| With the fireflies blinkin'
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| And the night stars winkin'
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| Home
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| Honeysuckle vine and muscadine wine
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| At home
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| Where the ginseng grows in the shady groves of
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| Home
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| With family and friends and joy that never ends
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| Home
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| There’s no place like it
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| No place like it
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| Home |