Give Me Back My Memories
There is a place we used to go
A river, a stone and the crooked tree
Wading in that water donít seem to help no more
Give me back my memories

I hear your voice ringing down these halls
See your eyes in the fallen leaves
Hold your hand at the Bushy Creek falls
Give me back my memories

Iíll be standing at the tracks
Waiting on a train
To pick me up and take me where
You arenít so heavy on my brain
Iíll smile for you, momma, but it wont hold out too long
Pass me some more whiskey, and put that old tea kettle on

I canít blame you for leaving now
But thereís a cage in my head and you hold the key
Put the kibosh down on on the where, when and how
Give me back my memories

Itís number 8 to Nashville, 10 to New Orleans
Number 9 just takes me home where you still plague my dreams
I never feel like sleeping, donít feel like waking up
Pass me a little codeine, and put some red wine in my cup

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