Two black line streaming out like a guidance line.    Put one foot on the road now where the sybourgs are driving,    With the WD-40 in their veins the screeching little brakes complain.    With the briefcase empty and the holes in my shoes,    I try to stay friendly for the sugary abuse.    So tell my secretary now to hold all of my calls,    I believe I can hear through these walls.    Oh please save me, save me from myself.    I can’t be the only one stuck on the shelf.    You said you’d always fall for the underdog.    Well I’ve been dreaming of jetstreams and kicking up dust,    A thirty seven thousand foot of wonderlust    And with skyline number 9 ticked off in my mind,    Oh can you hear me screaming out now through the telephone line.       Oh please save me, save me from myself.    I can’t be the only one stuck on the shelf.    You said you’d always fall for the underdog.