following white lines, they don't seem to have a goal in mind.
i'm livin' on borrowed time and it's way past due.
ain't got a dime for the fine. neither do you.

i've got a handful of klonopin,
a fifth of whiskey and a pint of gin.
runnin' off the rails of our wasted youth.
we had to fire the conductor, life was out of tune.

so it goes...

seems like just last night, climbed out your window into the moonlight...
runnin' from momma's lies and daddy's hands.
swore i'd steal you far away "as quickly as i can".

merrily, we row this broken boat upstream -
cast a line for catchin' the american dream.
out here in the fields of our own teenage wasteland.
never had a clue and - for damn sure - no plan.

nothing matters, what if it did?

barrelin' up 95, headed north. hope for a great white sight.
crossin' the borderline - a point of no return.
you can't retrace across a bridge that you already burned.

99 bottles of beer between us,
couldn't find a kernel of fear between us.
runnin' off the rails of our wasted youth.
feelin' like we're hot on the trail of a bitter truth.

we're all gonna die here someday...