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