We fished the Sabine river back before Toledo Bend
We took cane poles and water melons but we'd mostly eat and swim
Then we'd wade across to Texas just like wild Comanche's itchin' for a fight
It felt like such a distance back to the Lousiana side

From the airport to the Sabine was a thousand miles or so
But I'm back here on this river like all those years ago
To think on trials and situations that sent to running back to this lost shore
I guess that miles don't make the distance they don't make a difference anymore

It's not lifetimes
It's not light years
It's not the turns made round the wheel
It's not the miles that make the distance
It's just the way they make you feel

Time and space just keep collapsing like through the wrong end of a lens
Till it seems my journeys over before it could begin
Now there's some old man in my mirror he's staring back like this ain't real
He says, "the miles don't make the distance it's the way they make you feel"

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