Jump Little Children: Underground Elite

Mississippi moonshine's got me doubled over laughing in pain
Back at the Chevron the chicken wings made you feel just the same
The bucket of bayou that licked you like a five pound block of salt
I threw it to the puppy that was yapping on the hot asphalt.

Wisest word I ever heard was written on that bathroom wall
In the Mississippi River greasy spoon in southern Arkansas
Skimming across the scrawl of the underground elite retorts
I see a beacon to the traveler paraphrased sweet and short.

A word to the wise
A breath to the philosopher
A hand to the devil
A gift to the masses
Whatever you do, don't
Whatever you do, don't
Whatever you do, don't take my advice.

Mister blister burning on the fumes of a day hard earned
Bullet through the blue highways 'til the whole damn world is turned
We're driving and we're driving until driving, it don't feel real
But it's so easy, all you do is get some sleep behind the wheel.

Take a second to reflect on peculiarity
Every stop we've made has shared a certain similarity
There's juices and there's candies and there's sodas, all brand names
But the message on the walls from town to town has been the same.

A word to the wise
A breath to the philosopher
A hand to the devil
A gift to the masses
Whatever you do, don't
Whatever you do, don't
Whatever you do, don't take my advice.

Permanent marker with a fat tip
Scratch off the paint with a dime
Greas up the mirror with some lipstick
A revolution is not a crime.

Finally before my eyes, there it was for me to see
In a truck stop in the lonely hills of eastern Tennessee
I'd tell you how I felt if I could but I just can't
When I happened on that bathroom with a fresh coat of paint.

A word to the wise
A breath to the philosopher
A hand to the devil
A gift to the masses
Whatever you do, don't
Whatever you do, don't
Whatever you do, don't take my advice.