Eight Day Hell

Wasting away the better part of the day In the bus on the docks of the UK We walked down the street on that all Hallows Eve But couldn't wait to get back to the US of A The torture of eight days straight Without sight of your face is so frightening Hoping to make it straight Or find signs of a bite that won't fade like poison In London we played half an hour a day For a house full of neds who are wanting us dead In Glasgow and Leeds we find signs of relief An escape from our grief with a fistful of E's Eight day hell You're in an eight day hell