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