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Stopmakingsense · 56-60, F
The pistons keep on pumping,
And the wheels go round and round-
That steel rail black, cold and hard lays right there on the ground- Without love!
Where would you be now, without love?
And the wheels go round and round-
That steel rail black, cold and hard lays right there on the ground- Without love!
Where would you be now, without love?