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Текст песни Amy Ray Duane Allman

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She came on up from Waycross, yeah

From a whiskey swamp and a vagabond clan

With her tune in her bucket and her head held high

And a book about her grandpa flying the skies
She said, man, it ain’t never gonna be the same

You know I’ll give ’em a chance but no one can play like Duane
Now it was back in the fall of ’71

Duane met a flatbed coming home

With his song in the charts and his Harley flying through the air

Now he was just hitting his stride when the angels wept
They said, man, it ain’t never gonna be the same

You know we’ll give ’em a chance but no one can play like Duane
We lose the best, we lose the rest, we lose it all along the way

We learn to dig down deep, wipe our hands, and walk away from the grave
She said, now, I got a hole that just won’t fix

As deep as a sky that won’t be lit

The span of a wing that just won’t fly

And I been carrying this tune since the angels cried
She said, man, it ain’t never gonna be the same

You know I’ll give ’em a chance but no one can play like Duane
Man, it ain’t never gonna be the same

You know I’ll give ’em a chance but no one can play like Duane
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