Excuse me, misses please
    I’m a traveling man  
We both know at the end of this show
    I’m what the road demands
Now Lucy you can chose
    To wait around for this
I’ve got my storm-cloud voice
    And you’re standing in the mist

I’ve got a ticket for an aero plane
It’s my time to ascend into space
As it occurs I guess we can complain
Because our lives are ours to waste