Got out really early from the factory
Drivin' like a nut in the rain
Don't think I was actin' so hyster-i-cal-ly
But I didn't see a thing until it came
Met the dumb suburbos in the take-away
Beating up the Chinee at the counter
I put a few inside me at the end of the day
I took out my revenge on the revolution counter
chorus:
Crawlin' from the wreckage, Crawlin' from the wreckage
You'd think by now at least that half my brain would get the message
Crawlin' from the wreckage, Crawlin' from the wreckage
Into a brand new car
In walks Bud with his exploding nose
He's been giving it the maximum today
Shouted, How the devil, you in trouble, I suppose
All you ever do is run away
Gunned up the motor inta hyperdrive
I wasn't gonna take any of tha-a-at
Don't get bright ideas 'bout a suicide
'Cause all I ever hear is, Zoom, bam, fantastic
[chorus]
outstanding bridge:
crawlin', crawlin', crawlin' from the wreckage
crawlin', crawlin', crawlin' from the wreckage
crawlin', crawlin', crawlin' from the wreckage . . . [solo] . . .
Nothin' seems to happen that ain't happen-ed before
I see it all through flashes of depression
I drop my drink and hit some people runnin' for the door
Gotta make some kind of impression
'Cause when I'm disconnected from the drivin' wheel
I'm only half the man I should be
Metal hitting metal is-a all I feel
Everything is good as it poss-i-bul-ly could be
[chorus, then variation on chorus with the excellent couplet:]
Crawlin' from the wreckage, Crawlin' from the wreckage
Bits of me are scattered in the trees and in the hedges
I shall never forget BP's outrage that some people thought Graham Parker was cooler than Styx.
