Somewhere on the long drive home
we stopped at the Golden Trout Tavern
for a stack of sweet honey biscuits
and a plate of chicken fried steak
with a pile of creamy mashed potatoes
then washed it down with an ice cold beer
in front of the toasty warm fireplace
with the barkeep's dog asleep at our feet
These stone walls could tell a thousand stories
and the ghosts can tell a thousand more
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