Two black lines streaming out like a guidance line. Put one foot on the road now where the sybourgs(?) are driving, With the WD-40 in their veins- your screeching little brakes complains. With the briefcase empty and the holes in my shoes, I try to stay friendly for the sugary abuse. So tell my secretary now to hold all of my calls, I believe I can hear through these walls. Oh please save me, save me from myself. I can't be the only one stuck on the shelf. You said you'd always fall for the underdog.
Well I've been dreaming of jetstreams and kicking up dust, A thirty seven thousand foot wonderlust And with skyline number 9 ticked off on my mind, Oh can you hear me screaming out now through the telephone lines.
Oh please save me, save me from myself. I can't be the only one stuck on the shelf. You said you'd always fall for the underdog.