Standard (EADGBE)

A white ghost, making his way up the west coast

 Trying to focus his high hopes on a vagina or two

 He's taking his chances

Meanwhile, back in his living room

 Bright smiles are watching his toddler run speed trials

 Over a grandmother's rug

 And nature advances

Up the interstate

 He's been awake

 And pretty drunk for three whole days

 No one wants to stop

Until they get to where they're going

 I'll get to where I'm going pretty soon

 So he takes another drink

 'Cause watching the scenery bleed

Into each similar scene

 Isn't as sweet as it had been in his dreams

It's faster to buy cigarettes and some cold beer

 If you don't rattle the cashier

 By asking her back to your room

 She's calling security

Our car's on fire in the parking lot

 And nobody wants it to rain

But God isn't listening

 So all of the windshields glisten

The water and oil mix

 Causing the fire to spread

 To five or six innocent automobiles

 Waiting in their nearby spots

 What a cruel God we've got

 Right on, right on, right on

 Right on, right on

 Right on, right on, right on

 Right on, right on

 So he takes another drink

 'Cause watching the formula bleed

Into each similar thing

 Isn't as sweet as it had been in his dreams