Almost Out of Gas
How come the young fellas keep whippin' my ass?
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
If I was a Catholic, I'd take the last mass.
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
How come I don't give a shit about what's goin' on?
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
And I don't come visit, and I don't mow my lawn.
Almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
Well, there was a young woman, she gave me a ride, you know.
But it wasn't too long 'til she dumped me off at the side of the road.
There's TV-lookin' people all over the place.
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
I think the fuckers must be from outer space.
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
Well, I used to be a man could make his own plan.
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
Now ya just gotta get by the best you can.
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
Well, I'm stuck somewhere down by the Missouri line tonight.
If it wasn't for you, I'd be doin' fine, that's right.
Now when I'm dead just throw me in a ditch.
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
And I wish you good luck, you son of a bitch.
Almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
Almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
Almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
If I was a Catholic, I'd take the last mass.
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
How come I don't give a shit about what's goin' on?
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
And I don't come visit, and I don't mow my lawn.
Almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
Well, there was a young woman, she gave me a ride, you know.
But it wasn't too long 'til she dumped me off at the side of the road.
There's TV-lookin' people all over the place.
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
I think the fuckers must be from outer space.
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
Well, I used to be a man could make his own plan.
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
Now ya just gotta get by the best you can.
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
Well, I'm stuck somewhere down by the Missouri line tonight.
If it wasn't for you, I'd be doin' fine, that's right.
Now when I'm dead just throw me in a ditch.
I'm almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
And I wish you good luck, you son of a bitch.
Almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
Almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
Almost out of gas, almost out of gas.
Credits
Writer(s): Greg Edmonson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
Altri album
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.