You can dress in camouflage
But that won’t help you hide
And you can run, run, run, run
But you can’t outrun the tide
You’re setting a pattern
That leads to danger
Heading down a path
Where God is a stranger
You can call the shots
You can cast your own lots
And you can stand your ground
You can be your own boss
But it’s like driving down Pike’s Peak
Ninety miles an hour in the dark
With the headlights off
There’s pleasure for a season
But winter’s round the bend
It may be like a joyride, yeah
But you know it’s going to end
I know it’s nice to think
There won’t be a backlash
But going that way
There’s going to be a big crash
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