It's carbonide monoxide
The ol' Detroit perfume
It hangs on the highways in the mornin'
And it lays you down by noonOh, Papa Hobo
You can see that I'm dressed like a schoolboy
But I feel like a clown
It's a natural reaction I learned in this basketball townSweep up
I've been sweepin' up the tips I've made
I've been livin' on Gatorade
Plannin' my getawayDetroit, Detroit got a hell of a hockey team
Got a left-handed way
Of makin' a man sign up on that automotive dream
Oh yeah, oh yeahOh, Papa, Papa Hobo
Could you slip me a ride?
Well, it's just after breakfast
I'm in the road and the weatherman lied
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