Headed West to Chicago, it's a straight-shot on I-80
In the back of a trailer, which besides for us is empty
Well it's 98 degrees, and I'd kill for a breeze
But this ride'll take us all the way
Besides Mikey's got sticks to keep rhythm to this shit
So I guess that we'll be okay... okay

Too bumpy for a journal, and if it weren't what would I write
That could commemorate as well as these four chords this ride
Well if we don't wind up dead, we'll soon have a bed
Or at least a roof in Chicago tonight
Besides Mikey's got sticks to keep rhythm to this shit
So I guess that we'll be alright... alright

Half naked and sweaty, we are laughing on the floor
'Cause when your world is a trailer, there is no poverty, there is no war.
Well the water's run out and I have not a doubt
We must be breaking a dozen laws
But Mikey's got sticks to keep rhythm to this shit
I'd take this ride again without a pause... without a pause


Lyrics submitted by displacedfever

How Mikey and Me Almost Died Hitching to Chicago song meanings
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