| Plymouth Satellite a' flyin'
|
| Near the speed a' sound
|
| Got the windows down
|
| And the wheels a' risin'
|
| Clean up off the ground
|
| Flood lights from the jailhouse shining
|
| ‘Cross the mustard fields
|
| Some a' them boys I used to run with
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| Some a' them are in there still
|
| Flyin' down the back roads
|
| Like the last and only one
|
| When you’re seventeen and wild
|
| Boy you’re like a loaded gun
|
| Don’t know what I’m runnin' from
|
| Not sure where I’m goin'
|
| Just seems like the world around me’s
|
| Moving awful slow
|
| So you drink it down
|
| And you go devour everything you touch
|
| My tank down on empty
|
| Got no time though to fill it up
|
| Flyin' down the back roads
|
| Like the last and only one
|
| When you’re seventeen and wild
|
| Boy you’re like a loaded gun
|
| Huck Finn in a Plymouth flying
|
| Near the speed a' light
|
| Two-lane highway to myself
|
| There’s nothin' like a summer night
|
| When you’re still a kid
|
| But things ya did
|
| You’re lucky just to be alive
|
| Flyin' down the back roads
|
| Like the last and only one
|
| When you’re seventeen and wild
|
| Boy you’re like a loaded gun
|
| Flyin' down the back roads
|
| In a race I never won
|
| When you’re seventeen and wild
|
| Boy you’re like a loaded gun |