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Golden Age Of Radio

Picture they took of you in your cowboy hat

Makes you look like you are one of the boys

Out on a Saturday night, meanwhile on the outskirts of the dance hall

I'm a joke that you'd probably enjoy

On the outside of Memphis all the building look big

And the white picket fences all dare to charge around the lawn

And hold their heads up high when my headlights find them out

They'll be the first to put their hands in the air with my radio on

Singing a country song soft and low

Oh when I've got a worried mind I know

I hear the ghost of Patsy Cline

On the Grand Old Opry Show

Living on the edge of the city limit line

This is where the boundary finally ends

And I swear that we're the last living souls in a populated ghost town

All the billboards are our best friends

Which way did our last chance go and can we

Get out if we go right now?

It seems that with the malls and the mega-church stadiums

We would get out if we knew just how with the radio on

Standing in line to get my self-help book signed off

On by the reverend who shouts to the converted

Have mercy on this boy he did it all by the book

But still kind of has his doubts

Oh you look pretty good in that jonquil dress

But your smile is a wooden nickel's pride

and I know that it ain't worth much but I feels good to touch

And I think that I could dance if I tried with your radio on

Oh when I've got a worried mind I know

I hear the ghost of Patsy Cline

On the Grand Old Opry Show

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written by RITTER, JOSH

Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, DUCHAMP, INC

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