Mashin' On The Motorway

(album: The Private Press - 2002)

Out of gas, still burning...
Hey there... Who me?
Just a friendly neighborhood speed demon

I'm out to Nascar in a fast car to the last car
'Til there ain't no cars left must because I go by
With enough dust flying around to make you cry it back down
And choke half near to death, oh I'm gonna go on your left
Sorry 'bout that...
See like you a push the bucket, I like to burn big
Like you I gotta cut all the bullshit outta my life to live
So I tell 'em move over, this road ain't big enough for ya
I'm flying like Knightrider they trying to keep up
With they grandma outside on the side
Maybe their steel belted radials expired, maybe they're tired
Maybe their odometer needs to be rewired or something
My bad...
(Can you believe some of the drivers they let out here on the road?)

See, when the whole things slows down
You're gonna find that clown who's gonna give you a scene
With the chance to take it... now!
Damn, what the fuck are you doing, motherfucking asshole Sorry!
Get off my lane you fucking fuck! I got yours right here buddy
Bite me Dude, what the fuck is your problem?
Maldito hijo de puta! Well get outta the way then!
Move! I'll...catch ya on the rebound!
Goddamn motherfucker, what the hell are you doing!
So much hostility... Y'all just keep checking your rear windows
Maybe you'll catch me passing... Mashed
Cut em-cut-cut em-cut em-cut em-cut-cut em off
Cut em-cut-cut em-cut em-cut-cut-cut-cut em off
Cut-cut-cut-cut-cut em-cut em-cut em off in the crash