Текст: The Foxboro Hot Tubs. Highway 1.

I'm on a midnight death trip
I'm on a mission from God
A stolen car and a death wish
To hell on Highway 1

Four on the floor, a hundred miles per hour
I'm gonna fly 'til the tires can't fly no more
C'mon!
I've got my blues, gonna make a racket
Nothing to lose but this strait jacket on too tight
I'm alive!

As the wind comes off the ocean
And my hair is combed just right
I'm in a stolen locomotion
Straight out of 1965

So, pass the bottle, a hundred miles per hour
I'm gonna fly 'til the tires can't fly no more
C'mon!
I've got my friends and a sharkskin jacket
Nothing to lose, gonna live it up 'til I die
I'm alive!
Whoo!

Well, on the night before the supper
And I'm gonna smash the glass just right
So, give me one good dose of thunder
Before I fall on my ass tonight

Four on the floor, a hundred miles per hour
I'm gonna fly 'til the tires can't fly no more
C'mon!
I've got my blues, gonna make a racket
Nothing to lose but this strait jacket on too tight
I'm alive!
C'mon!
Ha ha ha!