Little Stones, Little Pistols, Little Clash

We were like cowboys who traveled through time to an era when they had Corvettes, then went back in time (with the Corvettes) and rode them through the Wild West until all our corrupt enemies and all the sweet, corseted prostitutes went more or less ape-nuts because they’d never seen a Corvette before—and therefore had never seen a group of men rock a Corvette with such skill and such conviction.

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