Six A.M. on the Jersey Turnpike.
It's been a long year and it's been a long night.
We're fifteen passenger four-wheel drive.
Everything I own is in the back seat riding.
And I think, its gonna to be, a pretty good year.
Five A.M. and we're still drinking.
I've been so lonely I've been thinking,
I'd rather be drunk than alone in my bed.
So, pour that whiskey out in my head.
And I think, its gonna to be, a pretty good year.
I sold my heart and crased my car, my things I let them go.
Been out here on the road so long I barley know my home.
So give me freedom, give me death, just give me something more.
I'm face-down in a graveyard
Screaming: "What this all, this all been for?"
I lost my art to a red haired maiden,
In a crowded bar in the east of London.
The miles the beat to the side of my head.
Six A.M. I'm on a flight to England
And I think, its gonna be, a pretty good year!