Your world Is nothing more
Than all The tiny things
You've left Behind
So tenderly Your story is Nothing more
Than what you see
Or What you've done
Or will become
Standing strong
Do you belong
In your skin J
ust wondering
Gentle now
A tender breeze Blows
Whispers through
The Gran Torino
Whistling another
Tired song
Engines humm And bitter dreams Grow
A heart locked In a Gran Torino
It beats
A lonely rhythm All night long...
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