| In the day we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream
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| At night we ride through mansions of glory in suicide machines
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| Sprung from cages on Highway 9
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| Chrome-wheeled, fuel-injected, steppin' all over the line
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| Maybe this skin rips the bones from our backs
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| It’s a death trap
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| It’s a suicide rap
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| We’re gonna do it while we’re young
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| 'Cause bums like us
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| Maybe we were born to run
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| Please, let me in, I wanna be your friend
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| I wanna guard your visions and dreams
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| Just strap your legs 'round these velvet rims
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| And hold on to my themes
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| Together we can break this trap
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| We’ll run 'til we drop, maybe we’ll never go back
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| Will you walk with me on the wire?
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| 'Cause I’m just a scared and lonely rider
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| With all that’s missing glum
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| Well, bums like us
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| Maybe we were born to run
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| This highway’s jammed with broken heroes on a last chance power drive
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| Everybody’s on the run tonight, but there’s no place left to hide
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| Together, we can live with the sadness, I love you with all the madness in my
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| soul
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| Someday, girl, I don’t know when
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| We’re gonna get to that place we really wanna go, and we’ll walk in the sun
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| But 'til then, bums like us
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| Maybe we were born to run
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| Maybe we were born to run
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| Maybe we were born to run |