What Used to Be Mine

I miss your house on the hill

The one with your room on the right

I miss your voice, you're the only one with it

It reminds me of what used to be mine

I miss you in Chattanooga

I drive through there all the time

And I listen to you when I feel like crying

It reminds me of what used to be mine

I miss your shirt that didn't fit right

I've worn it to sleep once or twice

I try not to go where I first met you

It reminds me of what used to be mine

I only see you on occasion

Some form of you, not in real life

Right now your picture's all over Atlanta

No matter which way that I drive

It reminds me of what used to be mine

You remind me of what used to be mine