[Verse 1]
Sunday drive past your own hall of fame
It's closed on weekdays, shut for good
They got no one when you're talking
Thoughts like rattlesnakes were walking
No one has a clue

[Chorus]
The parting shots
The thin caught fault line dancing across the frigid air shacks
The spastic rats, the criminals chat

[Verse 2]
Count to ten and read until the lights begin to bleed
Lights! Until you actually see the rays
And your thoughts they start to turnin’
Towards the lessons that you're learning
No one has a clue

[Chorus]
The gauzy thoughts of the sturdy Scots
Wrestle with the elements up on the trail high
I need to know, where does it go?
How do I get there and what will I find?

[Outro]
Fun, fun, fun, fun for the summertime blues
(It's gonna set you free)
Fun, fun, fun, fun, for the summertime blues