Pardon my imposition and the slurred speech on my tongue
But I couldn't help but notice you were looking for ruins to hide among
See, I've tried on all these faces to see if they might fit
I've tried to mumble phrases, but I'm tripping over it

The songs on the radio just suck, I'm afraid
It is my turn to drive, and I can barely stay awake

Hazardous conditions
The pavement is wet
I've got an 18-wheeler future breathing down my neck
And the bridge is icing over, and the brakes are shot to hell
And the voice on the radio says, "Here comes the '60s"

They were arguing the merits of Freud and Darwin on MTV
Oh, the things they foist upon men's minds in the blessed name of free inquiry
Buy stock in psychiatric hospitals
Soon there'll be no vacancy
If they see no one's at home out there, then someone else has got to fill that need

The songs on the radio still suck, I'm afraid
It is my turn to drive, and I can barely stay awake

I need someone tonight
My condition
I need someone tonight
You have got my permission

Now when a need is nonexistent you've got to create desire
Eastern Europe is the most likely buyer
They've been dying for it, crying for it ever since the wall
For syringes, porn, designer drugs, orgasms and shopping malls

Won't you pardon my imposition and my lack of tact and flair?
I was looking for salvation
I was hoping you might tell me where
I can smell it on your breath, smell it on your hair
I can almost reach and grasp it, but my vision is so impaired

'Cos there's dung on the airwaves as far as I can see
As far as the ear can hear in the 1990s