The highway is full of big cars / going nowhere fast / And folks is smoking anything that’ll burn / Some people wrap their lives around a cocktail glass / And you sit wondering / where you’re going to turn. / I got it. / Come. And be my baby.
Some prophets say the world is gonna end tomorrow / But others say we’ve got a week or two / The paper is full of every kind of blooming horror / And you sit wondering / What you’re gonna do. / I got it. / Come. And be my baby.
