'Cause we go way back Some things don't ever change Yeah, you and me Like Prince and Marvin Gaye Like South side on Sunday James Brown and Michael J Like them high school parties We go way back Don't you ever think

Free and easy down the road I go Pair of boots and a sack of clothes Hangin' memories on the high line poles Ragweed's rockin' on the radio So I keep rollin' like an old banjo Got the sun shinin' on me like a big spotlight So I know everything is gonna

Anchor my soul no more On the outside running smooth Of a gutless cold machine Although, I saw it coming You leave me hanging high Lost my sense to confide Blanks, confused and empty

She won't stop me put it down And don't look back Oh baby don't stop Bury me and fade to black So get your gun and meet me by the door Would I lie to you? Gun it while I'm holding on Don't stop if I fall Wait until it fades to black

We were getting high Where were you while we were getting high? Someday you will find me Caught beneath the landslide How many special people change? How many lives are living strange? Slowly walking down the hall Faster than a cannonball In a champagne

This is what I'm made with This is love Love, love, love, love She likes the shark print with the zip-up High hats with the hiccups Dark tints on the pickup Pineapples and liquor She moves with the machine Play the game to change it

We're not sure of the etiquette Anything we should know about your change? -- Oh and the cost to correct a fraud I'm going to go out and kid them If you're the highest bidder, I'm yours You figure out pathetic sets We think out pathetic sets And if you

This is love This is what I'm made with She likes the shark print with the zip-up High hats with the hiccups Dark tints on the pickup Pineapples and liquor She moves with the machine Play the game to change it This is how it is to be

'Cause we go way back Some things don't ever change Yeah, you and me Like Prince and Marvin Gaye Like South Side on Sunday James Brown and Michael J Like them high school parties We go way back Don't you ever think

Late for the hanging, yes he's headed for the moon And hang 'em high He comes from nowhere and he turns on his own Blasting out the night, his cap hides his eyes One eye on the road, price upon his head One ear to the ground, he's listening to the dead