Unmarked stones in the burial ground
Unmarked wheel keeps the wagon wheel round
Casablanca have you heard the news
Something, something, I got the jet lag blues
Freight yards down in Witchita
Freight hopper's luck is hard to draw
Grass fires burn the Oklahoma plains
Summer comes and the dust remains
Your daddy's rich and I am poor
(but rich at heart)
Your spoiled daughter well she wants more
Spirit comes through our destructive mirrors
I'll catch the train right out of here
It's been this way many times before
Legends made of old folk lore
That'll be my ticket right out of here
Something, something, stop seven miles my dear
On a rooftop down in Synegog
These malaria pills they don't work at all
Been up now for seven days
All my dreams in a purple haze
Unmarked stones in a burial ground
Unmark wheel keeps the wagon wheel round
Casablanca have ya heard the news
Something, something, I've got the jet lag blues