| Two black lines streaming out like a guidance line,
|
| Put one foot in the road now where the cyborgs
|
| Are driving, with the WD40 in their veins the
|
| Screeching little brakes complain.
|
| With the briefcase empty and the holes in my shoes,
|
| I try to stay friendly for the sugary abuse.
|
| So tell my secretary now to hold on to my calls,
|
| I believe i can hear through these walls.
|
| Oh please save me, save me from myself,
|
| I can’t be the only one stuck on the shelf,
|
| You said you’d always fall for the underdog.
|
| Well i’ve been dreaming of jetstreams and kicking up dust,
|
| A thirty seven thousand fool of wonderlust and
|
| With skyline number 9 ticked off in my mind,
|
| Oh can’t you hear me screaming out now through
|
| The telephone line.
|
| Oh please save me, save me from myself,
|
| I can’t be the only one stuck on the shelf,
|
| You said you’d always fall for the underdog,
|
| Save me (repeat to fade) |