Well, we realized so long, long ago, and I bet you
That we've seen it all, the lies won't let you
I've got fourteen miles to go
I've got rhythm, common sense, I've got the sto
But I won't wanna come around our love, so why?
If you are rich, I'm gonna hang you on the wall
I'ma find you

And when I find you, I'm gonna get your lovin' arms today
So we fight to get, we fight to get our weary arms to bed
Real love's something that I still hope
People make there own places to go
And now in ninety-four we're gonna lie some more
In 1994 were going to die some more
Is it ever going to be the last show?
It's a-going to be the last drive
Boss too proud to make the cars that we drive
The women don't mind, I've got ample time
They don't wonder why that they do

That's work that we do
Work that we do is work that we do
It's a beat

Bass stop bumpin' all over the place

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): BRADLEY JAMES NOWELL