| She was 3 years old when the postcard came
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| With just a lipstick kiss and her momma’s name
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| 'Cause momma had to get away from the old humdrum
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| Like mother, like daughter, like father, like son
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| Now the apple don’t fall far from the tree
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| The little girl grew up, left her family
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| With a map in her pocket and a stuck out thumb
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| Like mother, like daughter, like father, like son
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| Whoa-whoa-oh, what you gonna do
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| Some things never change
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| Life don’t always turn out like it should
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| Nobody’s to blame
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| Like mother, like daughter, like father, like son
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| Her daddy tried his best to raise his kids
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| Worked himself to death like his father did
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| Then his heart got broken and his dreams died young
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| Like mother, like daughter, like father, like son
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| Whoa-whoa-oh, what you gonna do
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| When you’re traveling down that road
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| And you hear those voices in your head
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| The ones you left back home
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| And you try hard not to listen
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| And you cry till your heartaches
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| Make peace with the past
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| Or just walk away
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| Now the milk of human kindness wasn’t in his blood
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| Still the son built himself a world that was made of love
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| All he wanted was a chance to be someone
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| Like mother, like daughter, like father, like son
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| Like mother, like daughter, like father, like son
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| Like mother, like daughter, like father, like son
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| Whoa-whoa (Like mother, like daughter, like father, like son)
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| Whoa-whoa (Like mother, like daughter, like father, like son)
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| Whoa-whoa (Like mother, like daughter, like father, like son)
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| Like mother, like daughter, like father, like son |