| Hossack
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| I was ridin' down that highway
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| Silver Harley by my side
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| When I thought I saw my lady
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| She was headed for the Berkely hill
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| Pistol on her hip in case she needed a thrill
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| I don’t believe it, don’t believe a word
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| I don’t believe it, don’t believe a word
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| I said, come on with me, baby
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| Don’t you want to ride with me She put her hand into her bag, now
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| Pulled out a half pint of red eye sauce
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| Sneakin' 'round the corner, drinkin' whiskey from a jar
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| I don’t believe it, don’t believe a word
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| I don’t believe it, don’t believe a word |