Two black line streaming out like a guidance line. 
Put one foot on the road now where the sybourgs are driving, 
With the WD-40 in their veins the screeching little brakes complain. 
With the briefcase empty and the holes in my shoes, 
I try to stay friendly for the sugary abuse. 
So tell my secretary now to hold all of my calls, 
I believe I can hear through these walls. 
Oh please save me, save me from myself. 
I can’t be the only one stuck on the shelf. 
You said you’d always fall for the underdog. 

Well I’ve been dreaming of jetstreams and kicking up dust, 
A thirty seven thousand foot of wonderlust  
And with skyline number 9 ticked off in my mind, 
Oh can you hear me screaming out now through the telephone line. 

Oh please save me, save me from myself. 
I can’t be the only one stuck on the shelf. 
You said you’d always fall for the underdog.