We pull up and we're $#&@ed again
These roads are full of sin
And to find one so compassionate

Unless they've been on what we call a Tourtasia
It's what will make you into a drink hard to tank
Different towns but it's the same old places

Nothing is different it's just all the same
Broken down again but it's nothing new
I can't wait to sleep in my own bed

By way of the van
We drive our own compassion
This is the end of the road

Turn around again
We missed another freeway exit
Sleep creeps on us all

Make thousands of u-turns
Face it we need another stop
Grasping for each other's throat

Instead take it out on the road
It was meant for this
We make all the cash we can

It's not as much as some
That's right, we make the best of it just to have fun
Even though we get screwed

I wouldn't trade this for anything
Fact is we love what we do
Even sometimes we feel

Treads from the stampede over head
Tourtasia footprints embed our skulls
This is our life

How many more weeks to go?