Lyrics The Getaway - The Wolfman , Buck Bowen

The clock strikes 4 I'm out the door
This working man blues I can't tame it no more
By the time I hit Reno they won't know I'm gone
Balloons on ornaments 1,000 strong

I've been fed on the bones the dreams of others
Swept away ticker tape from parades of colors
Mended pipes and streets of the inner elite
Exclaimed more than once, "What the fuck did they eat?"

In times of distress unroll caution tape
The limos roll by plug in my hot plate
Dinty Moore in a can while I plan my escape
Why don't you answer your phone why don't you piss in a cup

What was that you said we need to hurry this up
Why don't you grab a shovel and shut the fuck up
I'm not waiting in line not how 'bout tomorrow
Not another time or twenty bucks you can borrow

Not "you need to do more," not "you need to stay late"
All the humdrum the mass of mundane
Cast it away you won't hear me complain
For my blood a watch for my soul a crime

For far too long you've been taking what's mine
Utter disbelief don't care what they say
Call me Cool Hand Jack
This is my getaway

Sold the car packed a bag called the homie up
Nobody knew the God flew to Costa Rica what?
Packing light heavy burdens on the shoulder piece
Leaving behind previous lies off the older me

Rocking steady on the dolo with a death wish
Party of one has begun no guest list
Mad depressed full survival of my own accord
Thoughts of death but wasn't ready to pull the cord

Hit the bus El Salvador sits a day a way
Fighting demons while trying to sleep the pain away
Clouds lifting surrounding images brighten up
On a mission no predicting when my time is up

Back on the road and entered Mexico from the back
Pulled a muscle but kept the hustle cause nothing lasts
Sent a kite to the ill bless the God Allah
I'm going back to Cali for the first time to set it off