| Take your foot off the brakes
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| But you won’t stop my souped-up Ford
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| Well, you can set your watch 'cause I won’t stop
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| I’ve got my foot to the floor
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| This greedy jeep don’t need no sleep
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| Eats all the gas that you can pour
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| It’s a front-wheel drive and it sound like a bee-hive
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| Good Lord, that’s for sure
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| I’m blowing town, not breaking down
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| Can’t you hear that sound, those wheels on the ground
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| I’m on my way, and I can’t stay
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| Make no mistake, I’m pulling out today
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| Hit that spot on the dial and wait for a while
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| Till those tubes are all a-glow
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| Got to be nice to the wheel, you need nerves of steel
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| But you know that is no joke
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| Well, I guarantee you’ll feel higher
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| On those pneumatic tires
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| 'Cos they sure grip the road
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| Keep that engine clean, feed it good gasoline
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| Good Lord, that’s for sure
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| I’m blowing town, I won’t be breaking down
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| I’m moving down, hear those wheels hiKing the ground
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| I’m on my way, I sure can’t stay
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| Make no mistake, I’m leaving this town today
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| No highway cop’s gonna make me stop
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| What I’ve started
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| 'Cos I won’t be free till I get up
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| And go where my heart is
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| You know what it takes to try
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| To catch up to my souped up Ford
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| Well, make no mistake by applying the brakes
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| When I say «All aboard»
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| Well, you can roll up the sidewalk
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| And end all the small talk
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| When I shift them gears
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| 'Cos I won’t be back till I head down the track
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| A thousand miles from here |