| We pulled into Modesto after eight hours straight
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| Of fightin' every mile along that interstate
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| Stopped to grab some gasoline and buy a pack of smokes
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| But by the time I left the counter, she was halfway down the road
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| She left me in Modesto chokin' on dust
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| Four spinnin' tires headin' for Los Angeles
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| She never said «Goodbye», Lord she just took off in my truck
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| Left me high and dry as that damn Modesto dust
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| And now it gets downright dangerous in them dusty city streets
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| I caught someone on my cellphone but I left it on the seat
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| And I’m in downtown Modesto, just a-walkin' and a-wishin'
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| That I hadn’t left my damn keys stuck in the ignition
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| She left me in Modesto chokin' on dust
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| Four spinnin' tires headin' for Los Angeles
|
| She never said «Goodbye», Lord she just took off in my truck
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| Left me high and dry as that damn Modesto dust
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| If you see her out in LA, tell her «Keep the truck»
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| That engine ain’t worth an oil change and it needs a brand-new clutch
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| She’ll know where to find me: in some Modesto bar
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| She might’ve stole my beat-up truck, but I’ve got her credit card
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| She left me in Modesto chokin' on dust
|
| Four spinnin' tires headin' for Los Angeles
|
| She never said «Goodbye», Lord she just took off in my truck
|
| Left me high and dry as that damn Modesto dust
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| She left me high and dry as that damn Modesto dust
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| This round’s on me … or, her! |