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I’ve been to Athens, been to Jerusalem
There’s no one left to drive
Been to the country, been to the city
And there’s no one left to drive
Been to church, been to the mall
There’s no one left to drive
There’s no one left to drive
We’re in a runaway car
I see debris piling up in the rear-view mirror
No direction, no telling where we are
From Monday all the way to Sunday
There’s no one left to drive
Old rags and bones fly past
There’s no one left to drive
Through red lights and over the yellow line
There’s no one left to drive
There’s no one left to drive
We’re in a runaway car
I see debris piling up in the rear-view mirror
Signs are gone, no telling where we are
I’ve gone cold crazy
Spending my fertility
Rushing into madness
With rootless mobility
I’m trying to score some authenticity
If I can borrow or steal
But I can’t get there from here
With no one behind the wheel
The pedal is down to the metal
And there’s no one left to drive
Brake lines cut and bleeding
And there’s no one left to drive
It’s no use interrogating
How it came to this
Ah, fuck ‘em, babe, just lie back
And give me a long, French kiss
Robert Morris Black © All rights reserved.