He spent fifteen years getting loaded
Fifteen years until his liver exploded
Now what's Bob gonna do
Now that he can't drink?

The doctor said, "What'cha been thinking about?"
Bob said, "That's the point
I wanna think about nothing
Now I gotta do something else"

To pass the time
He had someone shave his head
He got a new identity
Sixty-two holed air-cushioned boots
And a girl who rides a scooter
To take him out
Of town
They would get away, riding around
As the trucks drive by
You can hear the motherfuckers play

[Harmonica solo]

A couple of lines, an extra thermos of joe
He'll be kicking in heads at the punk rock show
Bob's the kind of guy who knows just what
Bob's the kind of guy who knows just what to do
When the doctor tells him to:
"Quit your drinking, now's the time"
Will he ever walk the line?
To all my friends, "I feel just fine"
Will he ever walk the line?
Will he ever walk the line?
Will he ever walk the line?
Will he ever walk the line?
Will he ever walk the line?
Will he ever walk the line?
Will he ever walk the line?
Will he ever walk the line?
Will he ever walk the line?
Will he ever walk the line?