Howlin' at midnight, winter creepin' in
Feel like I've gone and lost my best friend
My best friend, lost my best friend
This car's headed down the wrong track again

I ain't got nobody, I'm nobody's girl
Gonna get in my Mercury and drive around the world
Around the world, all around the world
When I reach that mountain top I'll stand with flags unfurled

She's up in New York City tryin' to make it big
Wrote me a letter yesterday sayin' I ain't got no gigs
Ain't got no gigs, I ain't got no gigs
If you wanna send me somethin', make it a two dollar rig

I Am Produced

I am pressed, printed, stomped
And strategically removed
I am everybody
Insane without innocence
I am trapped, tricked, packaged
And shipped out
I am produced
I am produced
Pressed, printed, stomped, tripped
Trapped, tricked, packaged, shipped...
(The prisoner leaves limping)