Billy leaned on the hood of the car,
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With a match stick in his mouth
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And I watched him through the crack in the windshield,
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we were goin' South.
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All the way down to Alabama,
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said he had a job down there.
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But we were gonna drive just a little bit further and get a room somewhere.
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We drove past little white houses,
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with porch swings and there was always someone else's kids in the yard,
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And I remember sayin', hey wouldn't it be nice if we could live that way,
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And he was always sayin' we were gonna, but sometimes you should listen to your mama, Cause someday, some boy is gonna tell ya
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How he'll treat you like a princess,
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But sometimes they're just little white lies with picket fences.
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Well I spent most of that year waitin' tables
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Cause Billy's job well it didn't work out
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And one night he took the cash in the kitchen
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And he cut clean out of town
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Now I'm looking out the window of this run down apartment,
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A little older now and six months along,
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And sometimes I think about Billy
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But most times I don't.
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I think about little white houses, with porch swings and there was always someone else's kids in the yard
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And I remember sayin' hey wouldn't it be nice if we could live that way,
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And he was always saying we were gonna,
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But sometimes you should listen to your mama cause someday,
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some boy is gonna tell ya
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How he'll treat you like a princess
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But sometimes they're just little white lies
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with picket fences.
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Billy leaned on the hood of the car,
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With a match stick in his mouth.
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White Lies And Picket Fences
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Tammy Cochran |