Letra

Fire up that grey old machine that I picked up for under a grand Say and let's drive it out at night on a dead straight piece of road I thought that from a distance, if I squint It kinda reminds me of that car from BTTF - The DeLorean DMC-12 It wasn't even based on a desire to go fast No I just thought that's what men are supposed to do Like playing football, swearing Making fun of people's haircuts and not Talking about your feelings or your fears When I got my license I didn't drive For the whole of the month that I got it I didn't feel All that "finally, freedom!" stuff you see in films and TV But maybe blame me or wait, no You should blame it on that awful desert town swelter But some stupid voice that night On the dark road was incessantly telling me to GO FULL BORE GO FULL BORE GO FULL BORE GO FULL BORE Blasting Bathory cassettes, high on bad production Eating stale old sausage rolls from dodgy petrol stations It was the late 90's But my head was in the 80's In the 90's, 80's stuff was lame as hell Feeling isolated In the middle of the country It was midnight and I wasn't doing well I recently dreamt That these wheels were collectible, prized & highly sought after And my ex girlfriend stole mine and Totalled it trying to do a burn out on the grass And I woke up with an unruly feeling, An odd weird desire to drive that old Magna Well anyway, back to my story I was out there alone when that voice screamed again GO FULL BORE GO FULL BORE GO FULL BORE GO FULL BORE I gradually stepped on the pedal & I got it to 140 km's an hour The steering wheel started To shake a bit and I got nervous, so I slowed back down The next day was more or less normal Except for some reason I told my father And he rarely got pissed off with me But I heard the tone in his voice change as he said NO FULL BORE NO FULL BORE NO FULL BORE
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