In the day we sweat it out in the streets of a runaway American dream At night we ride through mansions of glory in suicide machines Sprung from cages out on highway 9, Chrome wheeled, fuel injected and steppin' out over the line Baby this town rips the bones from your back It's a death trap, it's a suicide rap We gotta get out while we're young 'Cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run



Long as I remember The rain been coming down.
Clouds of Mystery pouring Confusion on the ground.
Good men through the ages, Trying to find the sun;
And I wonder, Still I wonder, Who'll stop the rain.