Saturday night
and everybody gotta be somewhere
or thinks that they do
I'm okay bein' nowhere
but if I was gonna be somewhere
I'd be rollin' down that Jimmy Reed Highway
take out some insurance
an' let 'er rip
the spirit moves
when you've nothing to lose
barreling full throttle ahead
ignoring all the warning signs
til you crash and burn
that's a tough way to go out
but a helluva ride
when the last person who remembers you dies
so do you
some romantic bullshit maybe
as Brando would say
I'm committing slow suicide
but it's better than the alternative
and the world is screaming
NO NO
we can't be lost
And Hitler is still waiting
outside the gates of Hell
twiddling his thumbs
they've tightened up their immigration policy
as in some other places
masquerading in female form
his favorite disguise
according to Elvis
and my own observation
but love was easy when it was
like a jackhammer penetrating your indifference
like a lumberjack chipping away at your resistance
like a finger on your trigger
like a ditch digging its digger
like Humpty Dumpty humping all the king's horses
like the Queen Mum humping all the king's men
like a congressman with a coke bottle up his ass
like it's so damn funny I forgot to laugh
ah, but those good times
they don't last
and you're just a momentary blip
on the radar screen of existence
headed for that crash landing
no survivors
