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Sometimes I Feel Like George Jones

He watched a love that proved untrue

from a window up above

and couldn’t walk through this world

without Luke the Drifter’s shoes

 

Oh as I look at all my choices

I know that the race is on

and the cold hard truth is

sometimes I feel like George Jones

 

I may cry to a bartender

share more than a few of my blues

talk about the golden ring

that tore my tender years into

 

Perhaps she thinks I still care

and will till the grass grows over me

but the closing of the door still echoes

from the last time she set me free

 

Oh as I look at all my choices

I know that the race is on

and the cold hard truth is

sometimes I feel like George Jones

— Darrell Lindsey, Nacogdoches

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