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Six hundred miles an hour
Three inches off the ground
Your feet feel the conclusion
As you pass the speed of sound

A fine preoccupation
Just how fast can you go?
At eight hundred miles an hour
Your blood begins to slow

At an inch and then a half inch
It's the damnedest thing
Blades of grass whip past
They slice they don't sting

Nine hundred miles an hour
A quarter inch off the ground
A small gnat hits you
You explode without a sound
Six hundred miles an hour   Three inches off the ground   Your feet feel the conclusion   As you pass the speed of sound      A fine preoccupation   Just how fast can you go?   At eight hundred miles an hour   Your blood begins to slow      At an inch and then a half inch   It's the damnedest thing   Blades of grass whip past   They slice they don't sting      Nine hundred miles an hour   A quarter inch off the ground   A small gnat hits you   You explode without a sound
 
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