Shoot a 45  and drive  out past nothing    all the fields you pass  and crash  like you're supposed to    I know that much  I want it back  I know that much  I want it back    you won a ticker tape parade  you paid  in triplicate    but your undershirt is choked  with the poems that you wrote  in red    and you roll your eyes  and you cross your Ts  for me    shoot a 45  and drive  out past nothing    I know that much  I want it back  I know that much  I want it back