| The band was as blue as the melted Joni Mitchell cassette
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| On the dash of the van they had nicknamed regret
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| Touring round the united kingdom
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| Selling compact discs to the people of england
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| And wales and scotland, oh it’s hard to be a rock band these days
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| People like to spend their evenings in different ways
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| That’s just what the band was thinking
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| When the engine died and the lights started blinking
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| Their lives flashed before them in a slideshow of backstages and bars
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| As the van slowed down amidst the oncoming cars
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| They pulled it over and they called for a tow
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| Off the road
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| Off the road, off the road, off the road
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| Appearing from the mist was a hidden oasis
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| Aka the scotch corner service station
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| The drummer was relaxed but the singer was panicked
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| When out of the fog stepped a magic mechanic
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| He called himself stevie with an i and an e
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| He waved his wand and his wrench and said follow me
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| So the band drove north in stevie’s wife’s fiat panda
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| Just a slice of the glamour of being a band, uh huh
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| They made the show because the show was important
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| The sky was as damp as the cheeks of an orphan
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| Same rain as before just in a different postal code
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| But they all said at least we’re back on the road
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| On the road, on the road, on the road
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| Stevie made a midnight run right after the gig
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| Drove back to scotch corner to fix their rig
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| The band panda’d their way the next day south
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| There was the wizard with a crinkly old smile on his mouth
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| The van sparkled in the yorkshire dawn
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| They turned to thank stevie but stevie was gone
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| The road is a lot like the cormac mcarthy book
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| Less cannibalism but a similar look
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| There’s nothing more post-apocalyptic
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| Than a landscape of truck stops and rock critics
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| To paraphrase joni on the first track of that melted cassette
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| It’s a lonely road and it’s not over yet |