Lyrics:

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