I say "God, if you ain't smiling on me, then you ain't no friend of mine." It's late at night and this motel room's
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drunk, I been listening to the lonesome wind crying. My best friend once said, "Jim, what you cling to, that's the thing
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that you had best forget. For ain't no rose bed ever gonna bloom in an untended field of regrets." Guess I been busy
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killing time counting bullet holes in state line signs. I led a life of lonely drifting trying to rise above the buzzards
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in my mind. You get dizzy chasing 'round the tail of what you need to leave behind. Oh sweet Jesus, won't you help me?
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'Cause all I'm trying to do is plant them seeds of love with that girl from Brownsville, Texas. Midnight radio, a crackly
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white gospel station kicking out the sounds of some half-assed revival. Me, I never much cared for the feelings you get
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quoting scriptures from out of the Bible. For as the crow flies I know only one cure for a permanent tear in your eye. You
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gotta crank like hell that rope on old sorrow's well 'til the day that the bucket comes up dry.
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[CHORUS]
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Now dreams are just
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prayers without the put on airs... and though my history of dreams is a scandal of back-assward schemes and romantic
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disasters where Lord, you dealt me more cards than I could handle. Still from the lips of this half-hearted sinner comes
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the pledge of a half-baked saint. 'Cause Lord I might finally be willing to become the religious fool you always wanted me
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to be... if in return we could just tell that girl I'm the man you and me both know that I ain't.
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[CHORUS]
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That Girl From Brownsville Texas
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Jim White |