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Á¦¸ñ: Backseat Drivers
°¡¼ö: The Fold


We¡¯re hollywood stopping as the same old song comes on your stereo
And I don¡¯t feel a thing, except your hand in mine
It¡¯s all or none, cause I am one who don¡¯t believe in half hearted attempts
I¡¯m taking this one serious, it¡¯s serious

It¡¯s the sound of a hand across your face, singin¡¯ like
It¡¯s a sad place but where do I fit in, singin¡¯ like

I¡¯m through with words, I¡¯m gonna start to live this out for you
And I don¡¯t feel a thing, except your hand in mine
And it¡¯s all been, and we had fun but the time has come to state our best defense
I¡¯m taking this one serious

It¡¯s the sound of a hand across your face, singin¡¯ like
It¡¯s a sad place but where do I fit in, singin¡¯ like

It¡¯s a car of backseat drivers, where do I fit in, singin¡¯ like
It¡¯s a car of backseat drivers, afraid to take the wheel

Either one of us takes the wheel, or all of us take the fall
It¡¯s the sound of a hand across your face, singin¡¯ like
It¡¯s a sad place but where do I begin, singin¡¯ like

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Backseat Drivers
The Fold



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