There are worse things than being too late then you realize it's too late Everything I do is such a waste you don't I do You've already eaten the bait It's two too to easy Shut up slow down and brace I won't you will Sand fleas at my place So So So Sleazy Cut up Cut out Face Slips out My Sleeve Engine Stop and Engine Go No No No No And I don't even wanna go No No No No %#@! there I was more bullets in the air Than air Climb down gooseneck canyon Fall asleep and stare Throw in Europeans Soaking clothes and hair Throw up all my words now Though I doubt you care No Don't follow the trail of dead Armadillos straight to New Orleans Making miles moments dragged around by my chain no Big Sir won't falter In a tin can avalanche If your going down there Three dead boys in vain I don't wanna go I I don't wanna go I I don't wanna go I I don't wanna go I I don't wanna go