Besedila: Soul Asylum. Say What You Will, Clarence... Karl Sold The Truck. Walking.

The sun's creeping up and stomping on my dreams
Works all right, party's fine, but sleeping is my scene

The traffic inside your head is tearing you apart
Stick your fingers down my throat and grab on to my heart

And I'm walking a little closer
Gonna rise up, take you away,
Sunday's just another day

Her eyes shine like oceans, her skin is like the earth

Suck the life out of her, you better take her for what she's worth

No free ride, this bus is going charter
So get up off you ass and try a little harder, try a little harder

Walkin' a little closer