Song parody of
Highway to the Town
by The Resting Wicked
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The man has got a '44
Strapped around his waist
He sits on his rusted bike
With the serial number erased
List in his hand
Has certain names written down
He's cruising down the highway
Highway to the town
He's driving down steady
As he takes a sip of Jack
Escaped from hell and knowing
He can never ever go back
Wheels keep on spinning
No way to buckle down
He's cruising down the highway
Highway to the town
Those velvet tired eyes
Are filled with danger and pain
A little bag in his pocket
Filled with the best cocaine
On his snake leather boot
Is a red bandana tied down
He is cruising down the highway
Highway to the town
The man has got a '44
Strapped around his waist
He sits on his rusted bike
With the serial number erased
List in his hand
Has certain names written down
He's cruising down the highway
Highway to the town
He's driving down steady
As he takes a sip of Jack
Escaped from hell and knowing
He can never ever go back
Wheels keep on spinning
No way to buckle down
He's cruising down the highway
Highway to the town
Those velvet tired eyes
Are filled with danger and pain
A little bag in his pocket
Filled with the best cocaine
On his snake leather boot
Is a red bandana tied down
He is cruising down the highway
Highway to the town
