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Two black lines streamin' out like a guidance line |
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Put one foot on the road now where the cyborgs are driving |
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With the WD40 in their veins |
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The screeching little brakes complains |
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With the briefcase empty and the holes in my shoes |
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I try to stay friendly for the sugary abuse |
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So tell my secretary now to hold on all my calls |
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I believe I can hear through these walls |
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Oh, please save me, save me from myself |
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I can't be the only one stuck on the shelf |
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You said you'd always fall for the underdog |
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Well, I've been dreamin' of jet streams and kickin' up dust |
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A thirty seven thousand fool wanderlust |
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And with skyline number 9 ticked off in my mind |
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Oh, can you hear me screamin' out now through the telephone lines? |
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Oh, please save me, save me from myself |
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I can't be the only one stuck on the shelf |
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You said you'd always fall for the underdog |
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Save me, save me, save me, save me |
