lyrics
Driving eight hours straight down a dead-end street. Check on the RPM where the two lines meet (they don't move). We're driving in circles around the same old track. There's no moving forward. There's no turning back. Foot to the floor, but for what? Day in, day out, but for what? Keep on driving, but for what? You'll make it, kid, but for what? Set your own course and follow it. Sift through all the bullshit. Don't worry; it's just a ride. I'm not alone in this fight, no.
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