'68 Fastback

Take my soul, take my heart

Tear me apart

If I'm good for anything, it's all of this sufferin'

So use me for parts

To you, I'm just salvage

I ain't ran right in years

So drive me, then gut me, deceive and fuck me

Then disappear

Well, take all my jokes

And tell them to them

And act like you're someone that could be someone

Worth lovin'

And steal all the good parts

You found in me

Yeah, you'll sell 'em quick, yeah, you'll sell 'em cheap

Hey, you'll give 'em for free

But I cleaned all my pistons

I'm running on 91

And I'm piecin' myself back off the shelf

One by one

And now I've got a driver

Who chooses the high road

They don't use me for scraps or throw my ass back

When I hit potholes

And I'm flyin' down freeways

Going 117

And a '68 Fastback looks like a hatchback

Racing me

Ah, I believe

You cannot tear down what's built up strong now

Thankfully

Oh, I believe

That you cannot tear down what's built up strong now

Thankfully

And I'm flying down freeways

Going 117

And a '68 Fastback looks like a hatchback

Next to me