| When I was young my daddy said, Son
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| Never be ashamed of where your from
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| There’s nothin wrong with your last name
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| Don’t be lookin for people to blame
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| Cause hard times they come and they go
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| Most of the time they’re in the middle of the road
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| It’s the same pain in different ways
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| Don’t your know, Son, when it pours it rains
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| Hard times
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| In the middle of your road
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| Hard times
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| Creepin up on the good folks you know
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| Hard times
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| You daddy wakes up and you lit the stove
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| Hard times
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| From the California hills to the Coverdale Road
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| You got yours and I have mine
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| Mostly good folks have tried and tried
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| To make a livin on your minimum wage
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| Your coming up short nearly every day
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| And what’s enough and what’s the cost
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| You can’t stand up cause all is lost
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| You roll us up and your doors are locked
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| There’s a poor boy livin on every block
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| Hard times
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| In the middle of your road
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| Hard times
|
| Creepin up on the good folks you know
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| Hard times
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| You’re livin down the rest of you knows
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| Hard times
|
| From the California hills to the Coverdale Road
|
| When I was young my daddy said, Son
|
| Never be ashamed of where your from
|
| There’s nothin wrong with your last name
|
| So don’t be lookin for people to blame
|
| Cause hard times they come and they go
|
| And most of the time they’re in the middle of your road
|
| It’s the same pain, different way
|
| Don’t your know when it pours it rains
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| And it’ll always be around
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| Followin you from town to town
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| But you can get up when it puts you down
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| Cause everybody’s got 'em if you look around
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| Hard times
|
| In the middle of your road
|
| Hard times
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| Creepin up on the good folks you know
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| Hard times
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| Huddled around a wood burnin stove
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| Hard times |