| This ride, what a ride
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| What a ride, what a ride
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| Well, it hurts and it scars and it aches and it twists
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| It starves and it laughs and it balls up its fists
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| It’s crooked and it hollows and it soothes and it breaks
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| And it grows and it ponders and it toils and it takes
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| It stretches and it breathes and it is lonely and long
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| This ride, what a ride
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| Oh, my, what a ride
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| Well, it calls and it follows and it breaks down your door
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| It bleeds you dry and it asks you for more
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| Shows up at your work and it makes you insane
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| And it loses your keys and leaves you crying in the rain
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| It’s costly and violent and it’s a sorrowful song
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| But I am thankful by and by my love
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| And if I’m talking too much just give me a shove
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| If I’m walking too fast maybe pick it on up
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| It’s just like Old Yeller and Lonesome Dove
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| When you hate how it ends, but you can’t get enough
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| This ride
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| It lifts and it gives and it singles you out
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| It shames and it blames and forgives and it doubts
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| It inspires and it opens our eyes and it heals
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| And it coughs and it slips and it falls and it steals
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| Your memory, your dignity, your husbands and your mothers |