I point the car at north
The fire, the wine, the bed and you
In this crimson light I find the truth
And the truth is like a punch or two
It hits you hard it knocks you through
So I, get on the road and ride to you
I get on the road and ride to you
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Every normal man must be tempted at times to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag, and begin to slit throats. - H. L. Mencken
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