by Michael Martin Murphey
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| There's a Lost River that flows |
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| In a | valley where no one | goes |
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| Where the | wild water's | rush |
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| Rumbles | deep in the | hush |
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| Gone f | ar from there now |
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| Lord | I'll get back some | how |
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| To where the | white water | whindes |
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| In the | shadow of the | pines |
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| G | D | |
| Where that | Lost River | flows |
| A7 | G | |
| It's | someplace he's | lost |
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| Behind | bridges that he's | crossed |
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| Well he'd l | ike to return |
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| But his | bridges are all | burned |
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| And he's | much too far | down |
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| To re | turn to higher | ground |
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| Oh Lost River far | over the | ridge |
| A7 | G | |
| Now | is it too | late |
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| For me to | build me a new | bridge |
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| To the b | right golden time |
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| When her | love was still | mine |
| A7 | G | |
| And the | world was still | wild |
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| Like the | heart of a | child |
|
| A7 | G | |
| Where the | Lost River | winds |
| A7 | D | |
| In the | shadow of the | pines |