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• Eight Crazy Hours (In The Story Of Love) • | by Reba Mcentire
It was somethin' as simple as makin' the bed
That kicked off the voice inside her head
She was smoothin the sheet with the palm of her hand
When the thought struck home "I don't know who I am"
And she sat cross-legged on the bedroom floor n thought
There's are three people here in this house that don't need me anymore
And she cried like a baby, in a pile of dirty clothes
Oh She might be more carefree
She might be more sexy
She might be more friendly more
And the dryer was buzzin
And the tv was blarin'
And she wanted to call her mama

It was something just as simple as just checking in
To that cheap motel out on highway 10
Was it the sting of just leavin'?
Or using her middle name
That took the fun out of runnin' away
And she cried like a baby in the tub of room 5
Oh She might be more carefree
She might be more sexy
She might be more friend than non
And her head was buzzin
And the tv was blarin'
And she wanted to call her husband

It was somethin' as simple as pickin up the kids
That brought her back to her roof again
She'd been to the backside of the moon
And she had to keep it to herself
She grabbed a bucket of chicken for supper
Oh but she looked more carefree
And she looked more sexy
And she looked more friend than non
The table talk it was buzzin'
And the tv it was blarin'
And they all sat n laughed at each other
It was something as simple as not givin' up
Eight crazy hours in the story of love
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