The Wild Atlantic Way

Everything's closed on Sunday It's dark and it starts to rain We're a hundred miles along This detour of a road we're on Waiting for the sheep To cross the cobblestone street He throws his head back laughing, He says, "Why aren't you as mad as me?" Well, there's no one No one I'd rather get lost with than you Oh, I don't mind getting lost with you And if we're gonna get lost If we're gonna get lost... Take me to the Wild Atlantic Way They'll say, "There go those Americans Wrong side of the road again Trainers, backwards baseball hats About a thousand twenty-five maps..." Let's get lost in every Castle on a rim we see Take all the whimsy byways Hidden just for you and me—okay? 'Cause there's no one No one I'd rather get lost with than you I don't mind getting lost with you If we're gonna get lost If we're gonna get lost... Take me to the Wild Atlantic Way There's no one No one I'd rather get lost with than you I don't mind getting lost with you If we're gonna get lost... we're gonna get lost... Take me to the Wild Atlantic Way If we're gonna get lost We are gonna get lost Take me to the Wild Atlantic Way