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Hey, school mom
in the beat up truck
jukin’ to the radio,
music turned up.

Have you noticed as we wait
for the school bell’s dong,
I sit quiet in my car

while you burst in song,
a-rockin and a-boppin
to steady the beat.

Your small little baby
buckled in her seat;
it must be louder
than a chicken’s squawk.
If she could just move
and were able to talk,

she’d let you know that
we’re drowning in sound,
and ask you to turn the
big speakers way down.

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