We don't know where Jimmy Hoffa is, just where he is not
He's not in a bathrobe in my basement, sleeping on a cot
He's not in a blue vest at the Wal*Mart
Saying "hi," and handing out the carts
But he just might be beneath the parking lot
We don't know where the labor leader lies, but he's not lying here
He's not at the top of the Eiffel Tower or under Britney Spears
He's not at the state fair kissing booth
Or buried deep inside the Louvre
'cause that's somebody else-or so we hear
Couldn't say where he is, only where he isn't
He's not getting bitchslapped by Jack Bauer or breaking his brother out of prison
He's not one of the Wiggles
Or jumping 'round on Oprah Winfrey
And he's not the backup point guard for the Pistons
¿Dónde esta señor Hoffa? Él no está aquí
He's not in Louisiana with a banjo on his knee
He's not a roadie for the Dixie Chicks
He's not playing lead guitar for Styx
Because that's Tommy Shaw, who kicks ass when he does "Renegade"
And Hoffa couldn't play those licks, we guarantee
