There are
Worse things than being too late
Then you realize it's too late
Everything I do is such a waste
You don't I do
You've already eaten the bait
It's two too to easy
Shut up slow down and brace
I won't you will
Sand fleas at my place
So So So Sleazy
Cut up Cut out Face
Slips out
My
Sleeve

Engine Stop and Engine Go
No No No No
And I don't even wanna go
No No No

No Shit there I was more bullets in the air
Than air
Climb down gooseneck canyon
Fall asleep and stare
Throw in Europeans
Soaking clothes and hair
Throw up all my words now
Though I doubt
You
Care

No Don't follow the trail of dead Armadillos
Straight to New Orleans
Making miles moments
Dragged around by my chain
No Big Sir won't falter
In a tin can avalanche
If your going down there
Three dead boys
In
Vain

I don't wanna go I
I don't wanna go I
I don't wanna go I
I don't wanna go I
I don't wanna go