| Stuck on the road, it’s the deserts decision,
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| It’s something we can’t quite compress.
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| He’s jacking you mind up
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| He stares with his good eye,
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| He tells you a story of death.
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| He pumps up our clarence,
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| He spits out his tooth.
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| His best friend once killed a man,
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| I tell you it’s true!
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| He laughs as he leaves us, the bed has been layed
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| And all you hear us say:
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| Ya da da da!
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| Well, this life is soo far from the ways they all tell us to live.
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| It crumbles around us
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| We just pressed the gas down too fast to get to the next state.
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| This heart blasted heat well it’s melting the roads.
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| Our face tripping off
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| Eight more hours to go!
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| Who’s got the fever in this Arizona sun?
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| It’s calling out to everyone everyone.
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| Oh, it’s calling out to everyone.
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| The road has stolen my eyesight,
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| I can not see which way is to turn.
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| So follow the train to the next destination and see.
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| The world is a book, and for those who don’t travel
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| They’re only reading a page.
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| If you’re not careful, you’ll find that you might always
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| wonder the rest of your days!
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| Ya da da da!
|
| Well, this life is so far from the ways they all tell us to live.
|
| It crumbles around us,
|
| We just pressed the gas down too fast to get to the next state.
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| This house is on fire so get all your clothes.
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| Smoke billows out, now where do we go?
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| Who’s got the fever in this hot desert sun?
|
| It’s calling out to everyone everyone.
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| Oh, it’s calling out to everone!
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| There’s something that seems to be missing,
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| San Francisco, and puppets on stage?
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| Texas is something you’ll never forget,
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| And the balcony gig in LA.
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| Well, New Orleans, how we wish we were still in you!
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| Instead, we are leaving today!
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| No matter how long, we always keep coming
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| back to these hot days!
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| Ya da da da!
|
| Well, this life is so far from the ways they all tell us to live.
|
| It crumbles around us,
|
| We just pressed the gas down too fast to get to the next state.
|
| This heart blasted heat well it’s melting the road.
|
| Our face tripping off,
|
| Eight more hours to go!
|
| Who’s got the fever in this hot desert sun?
|
| It’s calling out to everyone everyone.
|
| Oh, it’s calling out to everyone. |