Pop Goes My 9

de Ovlov

Near, far, wherever you are
Steer car, drive it through the bar
Year star, burnt out blue scar
Carved it into tar

Large-grained sand
Lean on quick sand
Got my old ride's kickstand
Slow mind's often kind

Mock my old time wheel's name
Start fires, burn my old tires
Clean shave, seats we cannot save
Ears are blind, I don't hear behind
Speak 'til you find
Large wastelands

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