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I dug my key into the side
Of his pretty little suped up four wheel drive
Carved my name into his leather seats
Took a Louisville slugger to both headlights
Slashed a hole in all four tires
Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats
She defiantly chopped the charts. Shows her for making good music.
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"To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high" From the poem In Flanders Fields. This part is written on the Canadiens dressing room.