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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Jimmy Buffett
Jimmy Buffett
Vocals
Roger Guth
Roger Guth
Drums
Doyle Grisham
Doyle Grisham
Pedal Steel Guitar
Glenn Worf
Glenn Worf
Bass
Mac McAnally
Mac McAnally
Background Vocals
Michael Utley
Michael Utley
Keyboards
Ralph MacDonald
Ralph MacDonald
Percussion
Robert Greenidge
Robert Greenidge
Timbales
Michael Klvana
Michael Klvana
Programming
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jimmy Buffett
Jimmy Buffett
Songwriter
Mac McAnally
Mac McAnally
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Michael Utley
Michael Utley
Producer
Mac McAnally
Mac McAnally
Producer
Alan Schulman
Alan Schulman
Mixing Engineer
Chris Stone
Chris Stone
Mixing Engineer
Doug Breidenbach
Doug Breidenbach
Guitar Technician
Jim DeMain
Jim DeMain
Mastering Engineer
M. Chevalier
M. Chevalier
Assistant Mastering Engineer
Rodney Gnoinsky
Rodney Gnoinsky
Recording Technician

Lyrics

Little roadside restaurant, we artfully complain
Groovy tells the waitress that his chicken died in vain
Most every day goes by according to design
I live this dream but still it seems I have you on my mind
From the bottom of my heart, off the coast of Carolina
After one or two false starts, I believe we've found our stride
And the walls that won't come down, we can decorate or climb
Or find some way to get around, 'cause I'm still on your side
From the bottom of my heart
I can't see the future, but I know it's coming fast
It's not that hard to wind up knee-deep in the past
It's come a lot of Mondays since the phone booth that first night
The years, the miles, the tears and smiles, I want to get it right
From the bottom of my heart, off the coast of Carolina
After one or two false starts, I believe we've found our stride
And the walls that won't come down, we can decorate or climb
Or find some way to get around, 'cause I'm still on your side
From the bottom of my heart
These days I'm up about the time I used to go to bed
Living large was once the deal, now I watch the stars instead
They're timeless and predictable, unlike most things that I do
But I'd tell the wind and my old friend, I'm headed home to you
From the bottom of my heart, off the coast of Carolina
After one or two false starts, I believe we've found our stride
And the walls that won't come down, hell, we can decorate or climb
Or find some way to get around, 'cause I'm still on your side
From the bottom of my heart
From the bottom of my heart
Written by: James W. Buffett, Lyman Corbitt McAnally, Jr.
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