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Rolling up the windows of my 96 Buick
So the rain cant get inside of it
I have more dreams than you have posters of your favorite teams
Youll never talk me out of this
It takes more than I got to hold my tongue
You shot me with a wooden gun
And though the shot wont kill me it still bruises skin
That you dont believe in what your mouth runs
Get your cannons ready, light the wick
It will take more than an argument to change my mind
So why keep trying?
Keep trying, and you will never talk me out of it
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