Keep running, keep driving while I'm in this hell. Keep going, go faster. Fuck you and yourself. Go back, go back, go back, go back to Texas, mm. Go back, go back, go back and leave all of your messes. You got all the good shit, ooh, and I got consequences. I'm cold, I'm lost, I'm ruined and you go back to Texas.

Here you go again, still out, still right, still not listening. How it's always been. Doesn't make it make any sense. You were born on the high road. But somehow I always go higher. But somehow I always go higher. Oh, I hit all the high notes. But still don't got a seat in the choir. Don't got a seat in the choir. I've pedaled upstream where the river end. I've touched sticks and stones to an olive branch. I've made a full house from a shitty hand. Yet, here I am, still gotta be bigger than thе bigger man.