Shot out from a cannon, my big-base Eight Valve lit the fuse

Gonna leave ‘em screaming, me and my Indian aint gonna lose

Sixty degrees at ninety miles an hour, I aint losing this quarter mile

So me, Tex, and Fearless, we’re taking the show up to Chicago

Man they aint seen nothing ‘ yet, we’ll give ‘em one hell of a show

Sixty degrees at ninety miles an hour, I aint losing this quarter mile,

I’ll take it away from them on this dirt track mile

Aint going like Hasha, I’ll keep my wheels stuck down on the ground

Gotta run it ragged, til we win ourselves that crow

Sixty degrees at ninety miles an hour, I aint losing this quarter mile,

I’ll take it away from them on this dirt track mile

© DeSoto Rust 2009