In the secret caverns underneath West Covina
Half desperate for peace
With the surface dwellers
But coming to no conclusions
And now we emerge
Sky grey and misty
The Grey King in his new Pontiac
Some of us sworn to the effort
Trying to get our shapes back
Teeth filed down to fine points
Framework too tight
Strain at the joints
And I'm hardcore but I'm not that hardcore
I'm hardcore but I'm not that hardcore
I'm hardcore but I'm not that hardcore
I'm pretty hardcore but I'm not that hardcore
Load into the Grand Am
Doomed sailors
Borne high by the waves
Wild with wonder
Leather and lace and good friends
Most of them good
Most of them friendly
The Grey King at the rail, sparks flying
Three of us in the car with him
Scared of dying
All eyes on the front seat
Assuming his form
Reborn in the heat
And I'm hardcore but I'm not that hardcore
I'm hardcore but I'm not that hardcore
I'm hardcore but I'm not that hardcore
I'm pretty hardcore but I'm not that hardcore