| Lone in a car finally sixteen years
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| Everything in life seems to disappear
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| Rode down and when I thought alone outside
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| All us men have known this pride
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| Pull up to the curve around you
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| You’re the right type of girl who’s old and true
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| But the calling on the radio dial
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| She’s like pudding in the hands of a child
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| Hands of a child
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| She came easy like a dough in heat
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| Screaming like a vapor and I found to see
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| And a steady a hand never wiped her tears
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| She became a mother at sixteen years
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| Sixteen years to the day
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| That her mother had her, now she’s another
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| The world goes round that sun
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| Another sixteen years
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| They all say she looks just like you
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| That little girl smiling in your rearview
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| You should’ve been offering no lies
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| She has your face but her mother’s eyes
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| You never believed that’ll come a day
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| She’ll grow to understand every word you say
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| Show her how to put the car in gear
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| Now she knows it all at sixteen years
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| Sixteen years to the day
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| That her mother had her, now she’s a woman
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| The world goes round that sun
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| Another sixteen years
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| One arm around the love of your life
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| The woman as a boy you took for your wife
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| But you know that rising line
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| You pulled that machine back in time
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| Press the gas pedal, the lines disappear
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| You’re not much older than sixteen years
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| Sixteen years to the day
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| That your mother had you, you’re as old as her now
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| And the world goes round that sun
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| Another sixteen years
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| Sixteen years |