By Joe Quandt / Andre Kubillus

I’ve been hackin’ all night now it’s a quarter to daylight.
The waterworks are offering the only gay sight.
The chicken man’s having a bird again outside the QB2
And the crackwhores are on review upon Central Avenue.

Johnnys is full of unusual suspects,
Coffee and smoke and the usual subjects
The neighbors, the numbers and who fucked who, yea.
All the graduates are nothing new
Upon Central Avenue

You drive, you find there ain’t no color blind
because the lights go out where the money goes in.
Can’t stop equating the fair with the skin
but you drive drive drive oh drive, yea!

Yea, I sleeze on over to Clinton, try to clip one off of Kenny
because life is kind of funny especially when your pockets are empty.
I pull a flash down Myrtle Avenue and man what a waste.
Come on we gotta go get the money.
We gotta go get that damn money!

The clocks out of time on the corner of Lark
Dean in a turban like a shiek from the park
Michael the Archangel in my rear view, yea
Every debts come due
here on Central Avenue.

I know too well this ennui highway to hell
playing a game that nobody wins
feel like I never could ever have been
but you drive drive drive oh drive, yea!

Shcoobidy lwiwa badwida
a clang clang, a bang bang

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