Text:
Modest Mouse Interstate 8

just sitting down, thinking about nothing Looking at the thin air Breathing up the oxygen Have I told ya You could really get it on? A guy comes up, looking pretty 8

Every sick fickle fucker Childhood's what makes ya Till they treat you like tundra Weigh those opinions, more like air than lead Every planned occupation

and never went no place We're on a pass, we're on pass I stopped for gas, but where could place be To pay for gas to drive around Around the Interstate 8

never went no place We're on a pass, we're on pass I stopped for gas, but where could place be To pay for gas to drive around Around the Interstate 8