| Forty miles from the city
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| Sitting in traffic isn’t fun
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| A crucifix stabbed in soil
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| To a father from a son
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| There’s ghosts on the highway, I claim
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| Dancing on the medians, slamming brakes
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| I’m forty miles from the city
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| This is the shit that’s in my brain
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| I need a whim, something I can get caught up in
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| I’ve got to get down to something
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| If I could sacrifice a little bit
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| I will
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| Some of us are drinking coffee
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| But how the hell could you read a paper?
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| Probably headlines of fuel
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| While the government’s putting all the red tape down
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| Wake up, I just woke up
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| Wake up, I just woke up
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| The revolution won’t be televised
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| 'Cause it’s in the morning drive
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| I need a whim, something I can get caught up in
|
| I’ve got to get down to something
|
| If I could sacrifice a little bit
|
| I will
|
| I need a whim, something I can get caught up in
|
| I’ve got to get down to something
|
| If I could sacrifice a little bit
|
| You bet I will |