We're going down the road
Towards tiny cities made of ashes
Gonna hit you on the face
Gonna punch you in your glasses... Oh, no!

Just got a message that said
"Yeah, hell is freezin' over"
Got a phone call from the Lord
Saying "Boy, get a sweater right now!"

So we're drinkin', drinkin', drinkin'
Drinkin', drinkin' coca-coca-cola
I can feel it rollin' right on down
Right on down my throat

As we're headed down the road
Towards tiny cities made of ashes
Gonna get dressed up in plastic
Gonna shake hands with the masses... Oh, no!
Does anybody know a way that a body could get away?
Does anybody know a way?

Were goin' down the road
Towards tiny cities made of ashes
Gonna hit you on your face
Gonna punch you in your glasses... Oh, no!

I'm wearin' a shirt that says
"The world is my ashtray"
Our hearts pump dust
And our hairs all grey

And I just got a message sayin'
That hell has frozen over
Got a phone call from the Lord
Sayin' "Boy, get a sweater right now!"
Does anybody know a way that a body could get away?
Does anybody know a way?

And we're drinkin', drinkin', drinkin'
Drinkin', drinkin' coca-coca-coca-cola
I can feel it rollin' right on down
Oh, right on down my throat

And as we're headed down the road
Towards tiny cities made of ashes
Gonna lay down in the spa
Where they coat you in molasses... Oh, no!
Does anybody know a way that a body could get away?
Does anybody know a way?