Down the motorway
a bottle of Jacks in his left,
the wheel in his right
a head full of; what do you call it?
What is the point,
the man doesn't know any more
To him all is lost
Behind his back people laughing, with looks of disgust
you're nothing, a failure, a loner
All thats gonna end
Down the motorway,
a sip of his Jack's
The end of the road
