Clarks - The Blizzard lyrics

10th Street don't run in a straight line We played on the part we couldn't find And a musky old man, had a cup in his hand He's the unofficial doorman, he helped flag down the cabs The snow started light, we thinking about home But thinking was by far the closest we'd get, we're alone And what I had planned for the next couple days Nothing more than a wish, still a phone call away So we headed west, an our felt like four Till we had to sleep or just couldn't see anymore And the man on the corner was probably home, it was late And we were stranded on the highway at the Frederick, Super 8 (Lost on the highway, I ain't never going back no, no, no) 10 inches, twelve, fifteen, twenty-four Then the cable went out, we just sang songs then got bored Tempers were short when the food it got thin We walked a half a mile to the buffet, at the Holiday Inn Six hours turned to twelve and twelve to forty-eight We watched the gypsy's take shelter when they closed the interstate We spoke of Civil War, Pulp Fiction, and our escape Everything was shut down but for that Frederick, Super 8 (Don't apologize, just give me my f**in' sandwich) Lost on the highway on the side of the road Kicking your feet up to lighten the load There was a contest of manhood and there was no debate Oh six lonely, lonely, lonely men at that Frederick, Super 8 (It rhymes with 'debate' I ain't never going back)