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Switchblade 327 Brian Setzer written by B. Setzer
Switchblade 327 Lit cigarette in his hand Steel-toed boots on the accelerator Oil leakin' outta the pan
Switchblade, three two-barrels Gettin' there as fast as he can All juiced up like a hot carburetor Spittin' gas onto the fan
Blacktop burnout, Saturday night Try to catch him if you can
Switchblade 327 Switchblade, seven come eleven Switchblade, he's all right When he gets drunk he fights all night
Switchblade 327 Pullin' way ahead of the pack Chop top deuce, Saturday night
Flames shootin' outta the back
Switchblade, don't cut him off He won't cut you no slack He'll cut you to ribbons if you come to town He'll carve his name in your back
Blacktop burnout, Saturday night Try to catch him if you can
Switchblade 327 Switchblade, seven come eleven Switchblade, he's all right When he gets drunk he fights all night
Switchblade 327 Someone was calling his name All he could hear was his engine And the sound of the pouring down rain
Switchblade 327 Ran 125 down the lane But someone had cut both his fuel lines And the '32 burst into flames
Blacktop burnout, Saturday night Try to catch him if you can
Switchblade 327 Switchblade, seven come eleven Switchblade, he's all right When he gets drunk he fights all night (repeat)
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