I think that we're lost again
And this looks like the shitty side of town
We're running out of gas
And the sun is going
Down, down, down
Time to turn around
And start heading back
In the right direction now
But my map is upside down

I just want to make it to the show
But I don't think that we're gonna go
I can see the headline now
"Four punks are dead again
We know you don't care, but film at ten
And now on to sports."

Things are looking bleak
Everybody thinks that I'm a geek
We're hiding all our cash
My fingernails are digging in the dash
Why didn't you ask for directions?
What Cracker Jack box did you find your license in?
You stupid piece of shit
I'll never ride with you again
I just want to make it to the show
But I don't think that we're gonna go
Just pull over and let me drive
Everybody wants me dead
I think the club is up ahead
It feels good to be alive