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Was there an unwritten rule
That America could choose
All the place names that were cool
So they could sing about
A lover moving out
Or coming home or passing through?

We don’t go home to Carolina
Or Georgia on a midnight train
We’re not a day away from Tulsa
And we’re not making love
In a flat bed truck
In a place we’ll never see again

We don’t have Winslow, Arizona
Route 66 or Baton Rouge
San Francisco, California
Or sweet home Chicago for the blues
But they fall in love in Nashville
Just like they fall in love in Leeds
And our hearts they break the same way
And we cry when people leave
We cry when People leave

I don’t have a home in Alabama
I don’t know the way to San Jose
I can’t take the final train to Clarksville
And I can’t drive my car
Down Sunset Boulevard
To see a woman in L.A.