She looked up in the noonday sun, said, "Fighter jets are so unreal"
But we've got a job to be done, come on

When I was just a boy, I saw the kings of the big gold cities
But as they died I dried up inside, let's ride

Let's ride on airplanes and buses
Let's ride to the end of the line
Let's ride on fast motorcycles
Let's leave the routines of living behind

We pulled into a tick-tock town and all the people looked so happy
Another trip down the elephant slide, let's ride

Let's ride on subways and steeples
Let's ride to the end of the line
Let's ride on prescriptions and bottles
Let's leave the routines of living behind

Let's ride on airplanes and buses
Let's ride to the end of the line
Let's ride on fast motorcycles
Let's leave the routines of living behind

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Writer(s): Robert E. Pollard Jr.