I want a back seat
Because I'm dead beat
I'm respirating
Two [souls / soles] of the [ape here]
Gives us sleepyheads, sleepyheads
The road ahead it takes us to our bed
Sleepyheads, sleepyheads,
Our minds they race but our bodies are dead
Just like looking for footprints
Looking for footprints
The lights are twisted
Each one is misted
[To far and county]
Head nod in twenty
