| Three weeks before I could even meet my brother’s son
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| Didn’t see him turn one or two
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| Three months I haven’t made Sunday service once
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| I’m out on the road praying alone
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| Every night for a sign that I’m doing this right
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| And I’m right where I’m supposed to be
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| Mama said, «You'll be a star.»
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| And daddy said, «You're gonna go far, all you gotta do is sing your heart out»
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| A lot of miles, a lot of tears
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| Have given me some of my best years
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| There’s so much I had to miss out on
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| Six years of missing home for three minutes on the radio
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| Three years of wishing that he was here holding my hand
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| No, I didn’t plan for those three words
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| To be the ones that hurt
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| They don’t sound the same from so far away
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| Mama said, «You'll be a star.»
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| And daddy said, «You're gonna go far, all you gotta do is sing your heart out»
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| A lot of miles, a lot of tears
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| Have given me some of my best years
|
| There’s so much I had to miss out on
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| Six years of missing home for three minutes on the radio
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| I’ll do it for the three girls
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| At my show, who saved up for the third row
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| And the three times that I heard just this week that my words
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| Were sang by a three year old
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| Hairbrush for a microphone
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| Little girl with a dream
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| And that girl was me, yeah
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| My Mama said, «You'll be a star.»
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| And Daddy said, «You're gonna go far, all you gotta do is sing your heart out»
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| A lot of miles, a lot of tears
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| Have given me my best years
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| There’s so much I had to miss out on
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| Six years of missing home
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| But I’d spend fifty more gone for three minutes on the radio |