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The sun is shining on full blast, it's garbage day |
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Air in my tires and all my cares are far away |
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I'm looking like a million bucks, feeling good and sort of frisky |
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Plus enough money in my pocket for a quart of whiskey |
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Tattooed tear drops, confetti, I've learned to trust |
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My animal instincts, when farmer's fields turn to dust |
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This is the day we've been waiting for all our lives |
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So let's write letters to our parents and call our wives |
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Raise the flag, let's take a drive and raise our voices |
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Celebrate our differences, build a bridge and praise our choices |
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There's babies crying and it makes it hard to go to sleep |
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Some days are throw aways and others you're supposed to keep |
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Time waits for none of us, even though my watch is slow |
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And nothing's for certain but I'm searching for sasquatch |
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And you know what, the unknown is all part of the plan |
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For a runaway soul and a hard loving man |
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Protest, I've had it up to here |
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See ya, get lost, this is what we think of your ideas |
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Protest, we're not going to take it |
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We've been through it so make a wish and break it in two |
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New beginning, I've washed my hands and made my bed |
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Maybe I'll turn on the television or shave my head |
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I'm getting kind of bored with the same old cheese and crackers |
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My plan's all inside out, my reason's backwards |
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Some new air in my lungs is what the doctor ordered |
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But being exposed makes me feel kind of awkward sort of |
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Give me a shot in the arm first, the clock's ticking |
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I'm watching the water boil, I like to let the plot thicken |
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I'm ear to ear with good intentions and vibrations, I'm on fire |
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Sometimes I conspire with Vaughn Squire |
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Sometimes we go alone, over hills and through the sewers |
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Try to keep our edges sharp and learn a few maneuvers |
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The whole world is drying up and everybody's eyes are red |
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It's hard to see or even try to guess of what lies ahead |
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But you know what, the unknown is all part of the plan |
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For a runaway soul and a hard loving man |
