| Bus stop rain, busted power train
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| Got a broke down sixty nine L T D
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| I hocked my tools, to buy my brain
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| A funeral wreath from the F T D
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| Blank billboards on the highway of life
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| Counterfeit bills in the neon lights
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| This stick shift driven, sawdust dream
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| Show-biz sho' ain’t what it seems
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| Little hipster dufus with the guitar in a coffin
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| I been copping his licks about it so often
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| Then I flip-flop, go the other way
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| Yeah, I rip off the dude where the colored girls say
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| See, I cut my teeth on the white lines
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| Of life’s endless lonesome highways
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| Taking stock in the horizon
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| Shouting at every fool that come my way
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| I’ve been shouting
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| «Hey! |
| Can you gimme a ride? |
| Are you going my way?
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| Can you gimme a ride? |
| Someone gimme a ride»
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| But ain’t no one going my way?
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| Now downtown, they got the prison of shame
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| See the castaways of the Hollywood game
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| Tricked out whores with invisible pains
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| Cardboard people, dancing in the rain
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| To the same old tune
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| Circling like a vulture with the busted juke-box of the popular culture
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| If it ain’t got a beat, they won’t put you on the street
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| Heavy on the bass, light on the feet
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| I meet the street poets in the bummed out bars
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| I hum my single as I jingle down the «Walk of Stars»
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| With the geeks and the freaks and the crooks and the hookers
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| The burn-outs of life’s pressure cookers
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| Now, these are my people, my church without a steeple
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| Though I never waste a tissue on an incidental issue
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| Still I sympathize, 'cause I realize when I see the sorrow in their eyes
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| 'Cause I cut my teeth on the white lines
|
| Of life’s endless lonesome highways
|
| Taking stock in the horizon
|
| Shouting at every fool that come my way
|
| I’ve been shouting
|
| «Hey! |
| Can you gimme a ride? |
| Are you going my way?
|
| Hey! |
| Hey! |
| Can you gimme a ride? |
| Someone gimme a ride»
|
| But ain’t no one going my way?
|
| Now in the field of mind
|
| I’m plowing the topsoil of my memory
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| Digging up bones and skeletons, rusty relics from my past
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| Gotta put a new shine on the twists of time, redefine this old cemetery
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| Clear out the weeds, sow new seeds, sure I’m scared
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| But still I’m gonna carry on
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| 'Cause never did a body find their way home
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| Without showing first firm as a stone
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| The conviction, the strength, the courage
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| That it takes to make a journey start
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| For you got to be true, you got to be strong
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| 'Specially when the long road home
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| Leads smack through the smoking ruins of your broken heart
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| And I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know
|
| See, I cut my teeth on the white lines
|
| Of life’s endless lonesome highway
|
| Taking stock in the horizon
|
| Shouting at every fool that come my way
|
| I’ve been shoutin'
|
| «Hey! |
| Can you gimme a ride? |
| Are you going my, are you going my
|
| Are you going my way?
|
| Can you gimme a ride? |
| Are you going my way?
|
| Can you gimme me a ride? |
| Are you going my way?
|
| Can you gimme me a ride?»
|
| But ain’t no one going my way?
|
| «Hey! |
| Can you gimme a ride? |
| Are you going my way?
|
| Can you gimme me a ride? |
| Are you going my way?
|
| Can you gimme me a ride?»
|
| But ain’t no one going my way?
|
| But ain’t no one going my way? |
| Ain’t no one going my way, see?
|
| Now, ain’t no one going my way? |
| Ain’t no one going my way, yeah?
|
| Ain’t no one going my way, yeah? |
| Ain’t no one going my way? |