Autoscroll
1 Column 
Text size
Transpose 0
AIn ten years I?ll be older E D DMaybe living somewhere colder E A AGetting used to pavEement under feDet AAnd these will be our the good old days E D DAll the scenes that we?ll replay E A ABefore we scattEered in the breeDze
DThey say you can?t go home agEain DBut I hear a quite voice beAgin? E
AIt must be CarolDina calling Eme AIt must be CarolDina in theseE things that follow me AIt must be CarolDina reminding us of how we ought to Ebe DIt must be CarolEina calling mAe
We?re gonna have to face it Street lights on empty faces City sights and sounds under our skin But nothing can erase it Rolling hills and red clay acres It?s funny how a place can sink in Someday I?ll realize my mistake And I?ll reconsider my escape? Chorus: It must be Carolina calling me It must be Carolina in these things that follow me It must be Carolina reminding us of how we ought to be It must be Carolina calling me