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Miles

Zach Bryan

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Miles

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These yellow lines go on foreverYou should treat your baby betterGot myself a real love letterSays she wants a man who buys her fine wines and paintingsShe wants something kind and patientTells me nicely that I ain't itAnd buys another roundFor all her stuck-up friends in BrooklynIf I'm so fucked up, why you lookingAt all my songs and all my bookings at the local jail?I got miles, miles, miles, milesYeah, I've got milesWell, I got miles, I got milesI got miles until I'm finally homeYou got miles, you got milesYou got miles with me on your radioWell, all my habits ain't geneticThey're self-forming, don't you sweat itI'll do my very best to quit it, wake up in the lobbyBest Western is where I call home, side table and telephoneBut Holy Bible sits alone, I guess I'll keep it companySteal it when the morning comesSpend my whole life runnin' fromAll the things I could become, they call it potentialI got miles, I got miles, I got miles until I'm finally homeAnd they've got miles, they've got milesThey've got miles with me on their radioThese yellow lines go on foreverThe highway's just the moon, but betterTruckstop food and rainy weather always get me goin'I've been drinkin' wine for breakfast, eggsAnd bacon make me restlessI'll be gone a long while 'cause I've got milesI got miles, I got miles, I got miles until I'm finally homeWell, I got miles, I got milesI got miles, I got miles all aloneWell, I got miles, I got milesI got miles, I got miles, I got milesWell, I got miles, I got milesI got miles, I got miles, I got milesWell, I've got miles, I got milesI got miles, I got miles, I got milesWell, I got miles, I got miles, I got miles
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