I wonder what it's like To attack at night And now down the defenseless Invasions and raids just called Fucking, punitive expeditions Like a wildfire Devastation spreads Across all gallia From helvetia to eburonia

Of your teenage station "He's alive, he's alive" Yeah, you cried and you cried Everybody here Comes from somewhere And disguise How you cried and you cried And you cried and you cried You don't have to explain

To get a thousand miles from the earth A rocket would need this much power This much power It would take far more than a human lifetime Practically fit fi energy an de powa But a space station might look something like this Coming up di place mon yuh

They go from getting buzzed into wasted Might not remember what they're sayin' A honky-tonk station Spendin' what you spent the week makin' Ask a little hottie what her name is Radio turned up and playin' loud The whole world's asleep and we're wide

I'm comin' over See me down at the station By the lane With my hands in my pocket Jingling a wish coin That I stole from a fountain That was drowning all the cares in the world When I get older Climbin' up on the back porch fence

Land of the free, land of the free In the land of the free I'm standing crying (oh oh oh oh) Can't wipe the wind-blown smile from across my face It's just the old man in me Washing his truck at the Sinclair station In the land of the free (ooh) His

We've traveled from station to station So measure this 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20 In the time it takes a handkerchief to fall to the ground One of our lives will be over Brocade waistcoat catches glints of morning light Silk damask

Love throw a line On you and me Just before the blood runs into the valley Let's write a story of, a title wave We run out of luck, we run out of days We run out of gas, hundred miles away From a station There's a war and a plague yeah, smoke and

Roll to every station, murder the DJ If hip hop should die before I wake I'll put an extended clip inside of my AK Hip hop just died this mornin' And she's dead, she's dead Grindin', hittin' Brazilian dimes from behind Yeah, niggaz smoke, laugh, party,

I went down to the station, just to take a ride. Run, run, run, run. If you see me acomin', don't you waste my time. Found myself on a flatcar, yesterday behind. Pullin' out from the platform, there was no brass band. I pulled out from the platform,