Sanoja: Colin Of Arabia. Snitch. You Guys Were Great.

Don't put gas in our van.
Outcast Rouges, out here on the tolls.
Miles from home broke broken down
in the snow on the side of the road
cast away on amber waves of grain
sometimes the only thing that keeps me sane.
No shelter from the storm, no where to keep us warm.
Wont hear no S.O.S. god cursed this sinking ship.
Turbulent times on violent tides
Our map and compass don't align
We're trouble bound can't save our souls
Load out our lungs and hearts explode
Screaming out with hearts and minds
Fuck rock and roll.
You got room on your floor for my gang of four
We're tired and poor, down for the core