Rambler Songtext
I got one, two, three, four
five, six, seven, eight
nine years living in this city and smog,
and that's nine good reasons to be moving on.

I've been living hand to mouth
on these low down streets.
Now I'm moving out where the grass,
the grass grows green.
I got one, two, three, four
five months a back rent been holding me down.
I got a guy or two that been hanging around.
Got a 30 year itch, yet I'm only 19.

And I'm leaving this town
before they send,
send the law.

Stealing, stealing my way back home.
Leaving, leaving it all alone.
Carry my high, carry my low.
Leaving by the back door.

I got no shoes,
I'm mixed up with some fools.
I got aches and I'm cold,
my mind grates, I feel old.
I got so many drawbacks from this city of smog.
I got problems from my head
and right down to my feet.

And it seems so crazy cause I'm,
not old yet!

Gonna' leave this town of booze and cigarettes,
find me a place with a country style feel. (Yeehaw!)
Ramble the highways in search of a meal.
So long as I leave this city and it's crystal
methamphetamines,
Goddamn drug scene!

Stealing, stealing my way back home.
Leaving, leaving it all alone.
Carry my high, carry my low.
Leaving by the back door.

Captive to a borrowed country,
borrowed identity.
Unblinking weight,
shared commodity.
The world is skipping,
on another road.
the world is finding themselves
in a frustrated tangle.
Oh oh oh, oh oh oh.

And if the world understood there'd be peace!
And if the world understood there'd be peace!
And if the world understood there'd be peace!