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’68 Fastback
Take my soul, take my heartTear me apartIf I'm good for anything, it's all of this sufferingSo use me for partsTo you, I'm just salvageI ain't ran right in yearsSo drive me, then gut me, deceive and fuck meThen disappearWell, take all my jokesAnd tell them to themAnd act like you're someone that could be someoneWorth lovingAnd steal all the good partsYou found in meYeah, you'll sell 'em quick, yeah, you'll sell 'em chеapHey, you'll give 'em for freeBut I clеaned all my pistonsI'm running on 91And I'm piecing myself back off the shelfOne by oneAnd now I've got a driverWho chooses the high roadThey don't use me for scraps or throw my ass backWhen I hit potholesAnd I'm flying down freewaysGoing one-seventeenAnd a '68 Fastback looks like a hatchbackRacing meAh, I believeYou cannot tear down what's built up strong nowThankfullyOh, I believeThat you cannot tear down what's built up strong nowThankfullyAnd I'm flying down freewaysGoing one-seventeenAnd a '68 Fastback looks like a hatchbackNext to me
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