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The Tragically Hip » Locked In The Trunk Of A Car |
They don't know how old I am, they found armour in my belly From the sixteenth century Conquistador, I think They don't know how old I am, they found armour in my belly Fashioned out of machine revving tension Lashing out at machine revving tension Rushing by the machine revving tension Morning broke out the backside of a truck-stop the end of a line a real, rainbow-likening, luck stop where you could say I became chronologically fucked up. Put ten bucks in just to get the tank topped up. Then, I found a place it's dark and it's rotted. It's a cool, sweet kinda-place where the copters won't spot it and I destroyed the map, I even thought I forgot it, however, everyday I'm dumping the body. It'd be better for us if you don't understand. It'd be better for me if you don't understand
Then, I found a place it's dark and it's rotted. It's a cool, sweet kinda-place where the copters won't spot it and I destroyed the map that I'd carefully dotted, however, everyday I'm dumping the body. It'd be better for us if you don't understand. It'd be better for me if you don't understand
let me out let me out
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