|
|
|
|
 | |  |
| 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; just wondering | |
 | |  |
|
 |
| | |
| gentle now the tender breeze blows whispers through my Gran Torino whistling another tired song | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| engine humms and bitter dreams grow | |
| | |
|
|
| | |
| heart locked in a Gran Torino | |
| | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| | |
| it beats a lonely rhythm all night long \ it beats a lonely rhythm all night long \ it beats a lonely rhythm all night long | |
| | |
|
|
| | |
| it beats a lonely rhythm all night long \ it beats a lonely rhythm all night long \ it beats a lonely rhythm all night long | |
| | |
|
|
|
