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