My Thunderbird, my Thunderbird
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Put your head on my shoulder
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Don't say a word
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We'll cut across town in my Thunderbird
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There's a burial ground
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Beneath a cattle herd
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Mr. Henry Ford's building me a Thunderbird
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My Thunderbird, my Thunderbird
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Put your head on my shoulder
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Don't say a word
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We'll cut across the country in my Thunderbird
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We're from Pennsylvania
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Welsh men of words
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My daddy drove a Desoto
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I drive a Thunderbird
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My Thunderbird, my Thunderbird
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She's the voice of the future
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Baby, have you heard
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Tomorrow's taken wing on my Thunderbird
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My Thunderbird, my Thunderbird
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Put your head on my shoulder
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Don't say a word
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We'll cut across town in my Thunderbird
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Got electric windows
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Tilt away wheel
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Slide across the bucket seat
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For that sexy leather feel of
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My Thunderbird, my Thunderbird
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Put your head on my shoulder
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Don't say a word
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We'll cut across town in my Thunderbird
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From the old Volkswagen
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Back to the Model T
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A lot of men died
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Just so you could ride with me in
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My Thunderbird, my Thunderbird
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She drives like a dream
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Baby rest assured
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It don't get any better than a Thunderbird
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My daddy was a salesman
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My brother was too
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I would sell anything
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Just to try to stay with you
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But not my Thunderbird
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No not my Thunderbird
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Willy Loman's saying something
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I can't hear a word
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I'm going too fast in my Thunderbird
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They make 'em that way
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Yeah they make 'em that way
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Well they make 'em that way
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Yeah they make 'em that way
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Well they make 'em that way
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Thunderbird
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John Hiatt |