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letras de
Tom Waits
DIAMONDS ON MY WINDSHIELD
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Letra y Significado de
DIAMONDS ON MY WINDSHIELD,
Tom Waits
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Letra
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Diamonds on my windshield
tears from heaven
pulling into town on the interstate
pulling a steel train in the rain
the wind bites my cheek through the wing
fast flying, freway driving
always makes me sing
There's a duster tryin' to change my tune
pulling up fast on the right
rolling restlessly, twenty-four hour moon
Wisconsin hiker with a cue-ball head
wishing he was home in a wiscosin bed
fifteen feet of snow in the east
colder then a welldigger's ass
Oceanside it ends the ride, san clemente coming up
sunday desperadoes slip by, gas station closed,
cruise with a dry back
orange drive-in the neon billin'
theatre's fillin' to the brim
slave girls and a hot spurn bucket full of sin
Metropolitan area with interchange and connections
fly-by-nights from riverside
black and white plates, out of state,
running a little bit late
Sailors jockey for the fast lane
101 don't miss it
rolling hills and concrete fields
the broken line's on your mind
Eights go east and the fives go north
the merging nexus back and forth
you see your sign, cross the line,
signalling with a blink
The radio's gone off the air
gives you time to think
you ease it out and you creep across
intersection light goes out
you hear the rumble
as you fumble for a cigarette
blazing through this midnight jungle
remember someone that you met
one more block; the engine talks
and whispers 'home at last'
it whispers, whispers, whispers
'home at last', home at last
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Significado de Poor Edward
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Diamonds on my windshield tears from heaven pulling into town on the interstate pulling a steel train in the rain the wind bites my cheek through the wing fast flying, freway driving always makes me sing There's a duster tryin' to change my tune pulling up fast on the right rolling restlessly, twenty-four hour moon Wisconsin hiker with a cue-ball head wishing he was home in a wiscosin bed fifteen feet of snow in the east colder then a welldigger's ass Oceanside it ends the ride, san clemente coming up sunday desperadoes slip by, gas station closed, cruise with a dry back orange drive-in the neon billin' theatre's fillin' to the brim slave girls and a hot spurn bucket full of sin Metropolitan area with interchange and connections fly-by-nights from riverside black and white plates, out of state, running a little bit late Sailors jockey for the fast lane 101 don't miss it rolling hills and concrete fields the broken line's on your mind Eights go east and the fives go north the merging nexus back and forth you see your sign, cross the line, signalling with a blink The radio's gone off the air gives you time to think you ease it out and you creep across intersection light goes out you hear the rumble as you fumble for a cigarette blazing through this midnight jungle remember someone that you met one more block; the engine talks and whispers 'home at last' it whispers, whispers, whispers 'home at last', home at last
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