| What can it be that calls me to this place today?
|
| This lawless car ballet
|
| What can it be?
|
| Am I a baby pigeon, sprouting wings to soar?
|
| Was that a metaphor?
|
| Hey, there’s a Dollar Store
|
| Look, I’m rhyming;
|
| My spirit’s climbing
|
| As I’m called through this fog of mace
|
| To this place called Slaughter Race
|
| Welcome back, watch your head
|
| Hate to see you end up dead
|
| Let’s get this party rolling
|
| Is that appliance stolen?
|
| We have
|
| Fallen wires, dumpster fires, creepy clowns, and burning tires
|
| That great white in the sewer
|
| You’ll be happy that you knew her (Fin bump)
|
| Dogs and cats, they sure taste great
|
| With a side of license plate
|
| Some flag us deplorable
|
| Well, I think you’re adorable
|
| We may be a motley crew, but our hearts ring true
|
| And just for you, a face tattoo
|
| Ah, Slaughter Race, ooh-ooh-oh
|
| My heart’s in flight, and, wow, it’s a blast
|
| Feels like my dreams are real at last
|
| No trace of a frown upon your face
|
| Flying so fast
|
| Setting the pace
|
| Living the life
|
| Loving the chase
|
| Now is the time
|
| Here is the place |
| This Slaughter Race
|
| I know I should go
|
| But home feels so slow
|
| These roads are paved with dreams
|
| Happy dreams, not creepy clown dreams
|
| What would Ralph say if it turns out I stay
|
| In this place called Slaughter Race?
|
| In this place called Slaughter Race |