Hey you, walking in tight blue jeans,
Your eyes are burning, face is pretty mean,
The light is red, but your eyes are blue,
You try to look good, but you know it isn't true.

You cross the street, you're halfway there,
You're on your way to Hell - you don't care,
You don't know where you're going,
You haven't got a clue,
When the party's all over, what you gonna do?

Hey,
Hey you.

Truth grows dim, your innocence lost,
Your name was called when he was dying on the cross,
Sooner or later you must decide,
You've tasted Hell; let Jesus be your high.

You cross the street, you're halfway there,
You're on your way to Hell - you don't care,
You don't know where you're going,
You haven't got a clue,
When the party is all over, what you gonna do?

Hey,
Hey you.

Hey,
Hey you.

Fling high on Sunday, Monday's on a roll,
Too many white lines on a sea of glass,
The snake has got your soul,
You should be standing on your knees,
'Cause your nose is frozen and your heart's not pleased.

Cross the street, you're halfway there,
You're on your way to Hell - you don't care,
You don't know where you're going,
You haven't got a clue,
When the party is all over, what you gonna do?

Hey,
Hey you,
Hey,
Hey you.

Hey,
Hey you,
Hey you.