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Sunday night's a perfect night to mow some neighbor's lawn |
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And I'm drunk and at the helm before too long |
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And Chris will gladly ride shotgun navigating seems like fun |
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Drunk and out of gas we drive around and crash |
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We drivin' through the yard there's nothin' we can do |
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Dave's behind the wheel and he's had more than one or two |
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Suburban families slumber in civility awakened to the sights |
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And sounds of the yard they're blowin' down in their death machine |
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Drive, drive, drive, drive, drive, drive |
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Dave's a midnight landscaper he's workin' over time |
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And he is full throttle, full throttle tonight, alright |
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He was almost home, just one more block |
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He had to hit that last mailbox dumped it in a ditch, ain't that a bitch |
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Dave had to run, |
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Dave had to bail |
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He was havin' too much fun to spend that night in jail |
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He had no triple a for a tow truck |
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I called 'em anyway only to hear them say, hey pal, you're fucked |
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Dave's a decent guy like most of us until he drinks |
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And then his liquid mind takes over how he thinks |
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And then all that matters is havin' fun pullin' off the next beer run |
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On one too many nights, the party's over |
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You drivin' through the yard, there's nothin' you can do |
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Dave's behind the wheel and he's had more than just a few |
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Suburban families slumber in civility, awakened to the aftermath |
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The neighbors have been stoked |