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As we ride up the mountain I can hear the young ones brag, Just how much they drank last night and all the little girls they've had, There's nothing that I'd like more than to teach humility, I'll leave these little bastards in the trees, As we fly down the mountain I can tell it will be close, The new kids have that hungry look my knees are feeling old, I can feel it getting squirrelly as I push for a little speed, I think about my Josephine and the money that we need, Last year a friend of mine hit a little tree, I keep on saying to myself

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