California Drivers

Just got on the road again, me and a few of my best friends
And boy we never felt so alive
Fully loaded up the truck and took a left past Winnemucca
Headed 95 down 95
But what do I see
Crushing my dreams
Two pairs of brake lights, like snake eyes
Slowing down in front of me

California Drivers, pay mind
To that angry son of a bitch comin' up from behind
You better keep right, except to pass
Or I'm gonna drive this miniature van right up your ass

Just pulled off in Idaho, look around and what do ya know
Everyone here seems to know how to drive
That is unless you're headed out, up towards Banks or Crouch
You might have trouble staying alive
Theirs is the kind
That feels so inclined
They pass whenever they please
Ain't heard of no double yellow line

California drivers, mind yourselves
There's a whole lot of oncoming traffic
That would hate to give you hell
You better keep right, and stay in your lane
Or I'm gonna cause that brand new Corvette a whole world of pain

Tour's at it's end, we're back where we began
In the good ol' state of California
Yes it's true I'm one of you, the worst drivers
In the whole blue earth they say
But that does not mean
I'm digging your scene
Maybe it's driving like that, that makes them charge you
So damn much for gasoline

California drivers, get back
Just because I got a mile long record don't mean I'm giving you slack
You better keep right, and burn that gas
I'm gonna drive this miniature van
I'm gonna go as fast as I can
You're gonna kiss the back of my hand as I'm driving past



Credits
Writer(s): Evan James Daly
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link