We were on our way to Flagstaff Driving up that windy road With two roadworthy vehicles And one hellacious load Somehow they fell behind us We thought we'd meet them there But here we are in Flagstaff And the van's Christ knows where And I'm still wondering where those bastards are They're probably swilling in some Sedona bar I think I'll have a cigarette and I'll sit here on the car 'Cause I'm still wondering where those bastards are Well they didn't bother calling They knew just where we'd be The band was told to start at nine And now it's ten-fifteen If we don't get set up and play The bar will close its doors Then we'll have to pay for our way home By sweeping up the floors But I'm still wondering where those bastards are They're probably swilling in some Sedona bar I think I'll have a cigarette and I'll sit here on the car 'Cause I'm still wondering where those bastards are The owner told us flatly We won't play here again Until hell freezes over, Perhaps not even then Well it's time to leave this empty bar It's closing anyway You might say we're shit out of luck But all that I can say is... I'm still wondering where those bastards They're probably swilling in some Sedona bar I think I'll have a cigarette and I'll sit here on the car
