Esse letra de Terry Scott Taylor já foi acessado por 57 pessoas.
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By the diamond in the lane
Theres a crimson red stain
(marks the spot
Where a poor soul fell)
A handiwork of the devil
And its just one of several
Tombstones on the freeway
Through hell
Oh, cowboys with engines
Strike fear in their minions
No they'll stop at nothin'
To protect their dominions
With the bullets to back up
Outrageous opinions
It's best that you run son
From cowboys with engines
No don't lift a finger
Insult a gun slinger
And he'll show you exactly
Whose boss
Say a prayer for the old folks,
Tail-gaters and slow pokes
Whose path they just happen
To cross
In the new old wild west
Outlaws still possess
Those hair-trigger fingers
Cold hearts of unrest
So don't throw down a challenge
It could mean your death
And the law can do little
But clean up the mess
Some commuters have sworn
In the hours before dawn
If you happen to be driving alone,
A light fog will reveal
The dead at the wheel
Driving ghost cars to families
Back home
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