En las alturas de las Montañas
existe un pobre rancho,
una viejita todas las tardes
llora y suspira ahí:
triste es la vida así
quiero mejor morir
We've crossed this motherfucker more than a couple times before
We've had more than a couple breakdowns, literally, figuratively
Well I figure it leaves us with no other option so we'll stay on the side of the road
Just us alone unless someone gives us a loan
So we all look bored but we can't afford it anymore than we could before
We'll push that motherfucker til it inevitably fucks us again
That means we get to arrive at home all broke and desperate for work
But somehow we'll find a way to pain til something fucks us again
It must be nice to have ushers and riders and deli trays and whatever else they get served
Their music is played and they all get paid but I guess that's what they deserve
And the band that plays for a grand tonight will probably just buy a new van tonight
But I guess they deserve it, their music's more worth it and they know someone who knows someone
So fuck what you heard about the punk rock world
There is such a thing as guaranteed
It's a rich get richer mentality
So we'll stay on the side of the road stealing what we need to survive
Cause we don't deserve the beer or deli trays tonight