[Music]
I look at all of you,
and you remind me of my childhood.
I see boys and girls on
the road to vacation. You travel in
silence, miles and miles of songs, but
you find it's starting to get
a little long.
We're like in a big car. I
'm your driver. I've already filled up
my tank. No need for a
gas station. If you weren't polite,
you'd ask me
when we want to pee in our
stupid cars.
You feel condemned.
[Music]
But, but it's never, never the
last. You didn't think it was so far away,
the end of this damn thing,
the end of what has become an ordeal.
You saw me earlier, go straight through the intermission. There are many
of you crying. You must be fed up.
Tighten your
abs, then you'll squeeze your thighs.
But I continue my act. I'm doing one
last lap.
Condemned, feed back. There are
many songs you love, but it's
never the last. You did
n't think it was so far away.
From this damn concert, you're just hoping for
the end of what has become an
ordeal, yes,
but hey, I'm driving, you
're stupid, forced to follow me. I
understand your urge to shout, "When are we going to get there?"
So what do I have to
offer? I don't really feel comfortable starting
another conversation, brother, seeing you
in your chairs, squirming
like green, in pain and distress,
gushing out without me when my mother
told me, "Well, make your butts sit down." The next
time you come, traveling through
songs, how can it not stop?
Plan for protection.
You feel condemned,
but it's never the last. You did
n't think
the end of what has become an
ordeal...
[Music]