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