I can’t see the lines but I’m pretty sure I’m crossing them,
There were no clear boundary marks, so I kept driving, and no one said stop.
I didn’t feel the rumble strips, heaven knows I might already be a goner,
But there’s no guard at the border,
So I’ll keep driving ’round the corner,
And I’ll either drive to glory or smoke out on the way,
But that’s the drive,
And it’s better than it is to stay.