 Five tons a mile, a minute;
Two is the one that we hope for, hope for.
Only your handfuls of cartoons can misdirect our dialect, our dialect.
And from this day on he will go by the name of John Doe, Jr.
Propel, Gloria! Propel, Gloria!
Propel, Gloria! Propel, Gloria!
Propel, Gloria! Propel, Gloria!
Propel, Gloria!
Ooh~
Ooh~
And as they tippy-toed to see California.
And as they tippy-toed to see! Pick a map.
Here hunting is a pasttime, which some frown on.
Their small brims now brush the tiles.
And she isn't coming, is she?
Well, tell all of the world we're shotguns,
Sawed-off with scopes set on backfire.
Tell Auntie Em(if you see her),
We're on cardboard, on cardboard.
And as they dashed abruptly, see, not much further.
And as they dashed abruptly, see! Cheer them on!
And here, the elders use large deadbolts and small tasers,
To push angels past their years.
And I support their struggle to be free.
Well, tell that building we are shotguns,
Fully loaded and made custom.
And tell Uncle Sam (if you see him),
We'll deprive his check, deprive his check.
Five tons a mile, a minute;
Two is the one that we hope for, hope for.
Only your handfuls of cartoons can misdirect our dialect, our dialect.
Oh, thereupon, for now in those towns we're held captive.
Who knew?
Only handfuls of cartoons can misdirect our dialect.
Well, tell all of the world we're shotguns,
Sawed-off with scopes set on backfire.
Tell Auntie Em(if you see her),
We're on cardboard, on cardboard.
Tell that building we are shotguns,
Fully loaded and made custom.
Tell Uncle Sam (if you see him),
We'll deprive his check, deprive his check.
Five tons a mile, a minute;
Two is the one that we hope for.
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