| Three o’clock, thismorning, I woke up in a dream.
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| Thought I heard a flathead motor roar, I thought I smelled gasoline.
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| A feeling came upon me, that I ain’t had in years.
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| Something like a hot dry wind, whistling past my ears.
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| Saying «time, time, time is all you got».
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| There’s a memory that’s still burning, way down in my mind.
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| And that’s why, I’m going out and trying, a flathead one more time.
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| I ain’t seen my racing buddies in thirty years, or more.
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| One by one I lost them, out on the dry leaf floor.
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| We learnt to push those flathead cars as hard as they could go.
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| Just like old Whiskey Bob, down on Thunder Road.
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| I hear their voices calling, just accross the finish line.
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| And that’s why, I’m going out and trying, a flathead one more time.
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| I’ll get back to you baby, don’t you have no fear.
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| 'Cos I been there, and I wrecked that, and baby I’m still here.
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| But I can’t take you with me, when I cross the finish line.
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| And that’s why, I’m going out and trying, a flathead, one, more, time.
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| Time, time, time is all you got. |