The Trash Can Sinatras Follow

I'm on a B road heading for the sea
To see if hands across the ocean shake or wave
(See if hands across the ocean shake or wave)

Through the whiplash of the windscreen wipers
I can see for miles but all I do is watch the time
(I can see for miles but all I see's the driver's hands)

He harbors thoughts on personal grief
I said your hardship's only one of a fleet
That didn't go down well

Listen son, if you'd spent your life in the last lane
You would have an accent to grind
Punch drunk on patriotism, blind drunk on borderism
Maybe I should drive

And while you're castaway, the mice'll play
They'll have a license to dull those left back home
What about those poor souls?

You would have an accent to grind
Punch drunk on patriotism, blind drunk on borderism
Maybe I should drive

And as I jumped to these conclusions
He thumped his feet on the brakes
But we still hit a songwriter
Trudging through the rain

Scrambled out and watched him rest in pieces
Said a prayer and rifled through his pockets
And the side of his mouth still had something to say
At the toss of a coin I end up head in the dirt
And tail in the air

And yet you can dance away
But be it friend or hard-up-man
Fellow or kin, when your chips are down
They're down for good

I'm on a B road heading for the sea
To see if hands across the ocean shake or wave
(See if hands across the ocean shake or wave)