Lyrics:

We're goin' down the road towards tiny cities made of ashes Gonna hit you on the face gonna punch you in your glasses. Oh no! I just got a message that said 'Yeah hell is freezin' over' I Got a phone call from the Lord sayin' 'Hey boy get a sweater. Right now' So we're drinkin' drinkin' drinkin' drinkin' coca-coca-cola I can feel it rollin' right on down Oh right on down my throat And as we're headed down the road towards tiny cities made of ashes I'm gonna get dressed up in plastic gonna shake hands with the masses. Oh no! Does anybody know a way that a body could get away Does anybody know a way Were goin' down the road towards tiny cities made of ashes I'm goin' to hit you on the face I'm goin' to punch you in your glasses. Oh no! I'm wearin' myself a t-shirt that says 'The world is my ashtray' Our hearts pump dust and our hairs all grey And I just got a message sayin' that hell has frozen over Got a phone call from the Lord sayin' 'Hey boy get a sweater. Right now!' Does anybody know a way that a body could get away Does anybody know a way Were drinkin' drinkin' drinkin' drinkin' coca-coca-cola I can feel it rollin' right on down oh right on down my throat And as we're headed down the road towards tiny cities made of ashes I'm gonna lay down in the spa where they coat you in molasses. Oh no! Does anybody know a way that a body could get away Does anybody know a way