D , Bm , G , A

D
10th street don't run in a straight line
Bm
we played on the parden, we couldn't find
G
and a musky old man with a cup in his hand
A
he's the unofficial dormman, he helped flag down the cab

The snow started light and we were thinking about home

but thinking was by far the closest we'd get we're alone

and what i had planned for the next couple days

nothing more than a wish, still a phone call away

so we headed out west, an hour felt like four, to

we had to sleep, we just couldn't see anymore

and that man on the corner was probably home, it was late

we were straded on that highway, on that fredricks super 8

lost on the highway yeah

i ain't ever going back

ba ba ba

10 inches 12, 15, 24,

then cable went, we just sang songs and got bored

the tempers were short, when the food it got thin

we walked half a mile to the buffet at the holiday inn

6 hours, turned to 12, 12 to 48

we watched the gypsys take shelter, when they closed the interstate

we spoke of civil war, pulp fiction, and our escape

everything was shut down, but that fredricks super 8

don't apolagize

just give me my fucking sandwich

i ain't ever going back

lost on the highway, on the side of the road

kicking your feet up will lighten the load

there was a contest of manhood

and there was no debate, all 6 lonely lonely men, at that fredricks super 8

it rhymes with debate

i ain't never going back