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Shoot a 45
and drive
out past nothing
all the fields you pass
and crash
like you're supposed to
I know that much
I want it back
I know that much
I want it back
you won a ticker tape parade
you paid
in triplicate
but your undershirt is choked
with the poems that you wrote
in red
and you roll your eyes
and you cross your Ts
for me
shoot a 45
and drive
out past nothing
I know that much
I want it back
I know that much
I want it back
