Who Crosses State Lines Without a Shirt?

Late night creeping's got me tangled up in secrets I don't like
I'm not the type for the white-belt, red-tie life
It's something that I never tried

No notes in my book
'Cause it's only memory
My socks don't match
And that don't mean a thing to me

I'm sink, sink, sinking on a soul
I couldn't sell to Satan
I'm comfortable in flames, don't care if he'll be waiting
I'm sailing down to hell

I've missed a lot in a shell-shocked, shelled kind of life
But thanks to modern medicine, now I'm doing alright

I've got this guitar
And a pocket full of friends
It's worth more
Than I could ever, ever spent

Sink, sink, sinking on a soul
I couldn't sell to Satan
I'm comfortable in flames, don't care if you'll be waiting
I'm sailing down to hell

So who's with me?