I-94

Lyrics for I-94

I gave you my last box of matches Do you remember when We were living up in the Klondike And you had run out of gin Truck driving friend of mine said You was in the noose Director of the asylum Decided to turn you loose Eskimo Pies comin' to you aha yeah Eskimo Pies comin' to you Yeah burning to you straight from hell Twenty-two years of Motor City madness Living in Lincoln Park Working up at Willow Run Driving through the dark I-94 so full of holes I seem to hit everyone Tranq city makes me feel the rain Under cold grey sun Eskimo Pies comin' to you aha yeah Eskimo Pies comin' to you Yeah burning to you straight from hell I gave you a six pack of Stroh's You never drank 'em down You keep drinking Rolling Rock You know I can't hang round You got Garland Jeffreys on the car radio You know I don't need you You can go to Europe with Jean-Paul Or anything you want to do Eskimo Pies comin' to you aha yeah Eskimo Pies comin' to you Yeah burning to you straight from hell