Race The Breeze

Well that sounds like the night train, blowin' its stack Spreading its wings on homeward track Arrived here this morning, won't be here for long As fast as a shooting star, that's' what them eight wheels are for Come on baby lets jump aboard It's a mean piece of transport baby You know that's no joke On board the aging gamble smiles as he peels The seal off a new deck, then he quietly deals Hands round the table from the bottom he slips three Watch yourself if you play it

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