It's a jump to the left And a step to the right Through a hole in folded over space and time Cause I'm leaving the home base And I will be presumed MIA In a Cobra MKVII hyper bound They call me son of a gun A privateer on the run But its fine with me cause I'm heading for the center of the sun ♪ With a cargo of counterfeit goods Passing overgrown green backwoods Where the gravitation makes it an endeavor Through a vision of smoke I can see that it's no joke That the war we fight is going on forever They call me son of a gun A privateer on the run But its fine with me cause I'm heading for the center of the sun ♪ They call me son of a gun A privateer on the run But its fine with me cause I'm heading for the center of the sun Center of the sun Center of the sun Center of the sun