Sitting at the terminal bar, wasting my spare change
Waiting on the red-eye out of Boston
Fly me 33, 000 feet up above the problems
Drinking bloody maries in an isle seat
With the rest of the late night zombies, singing:
Hello hangover, how're you doing my old friend
Maybe you will sit and have a drink and talk things through, man
Cause I don't have time today to waste on you
If you call me tomorrow, well, I'll see what I can do
Somewhere on the highway between Hamburg and Cologne
windshield whipers making time with the radio
There ain't nothing more in this world that I could ever need
You just leave last night behind you
And you raise your voice and sing:
Hello hangover, how're you doing my old friend
Maybe you will sit and have a drink and talk things through, man
Cause I don't have time today to waste on you
If you call me tomorrow, well, I'll see what I can do