Everything is packed and ready Merch and guitars heads Something's in the wrong car Of course we will forget it It's over thousand kms Just to play one show But we don't give a fuck about it That's the way we do Twenty years are gone We are getting old Out-of-date, obsolete But still on the road Can't band our head Without a broken neck But we're faster than our farts And heavier than a fucking mould of shit The serial list is incomplete We'll do it on the way The lads at the border Will show us their regrets Try to sleep inside a car With four dead farting guys Close your eyes, hold your nose It's gonna be bad We could be lawyers Notaries or CPAs We choose to make some fun Playing a guitar We have been ripped off Our CDs lie unsold We're now too young for the old school And too old for the new How many days we wasted Rehearsing in the basement But if we could go back in time Well do it all again Smashing beer cans on our head We met our best friends Played whit'em for twenty years What more can we ask for? Twenty years are gone We are getting old Out-of-date, obsolete But still on the road Can't band our head Without a broken neck But we're faster than our farts And heavier than a fucking mould of shit