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There's not a lot that you can do in this van, |
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With these fine young boys. |
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Stuck in confined spaces, |
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The pram has only so many toys. |
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You fall in love with girls in hi-viz jackets, |
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Girls in their golf carts. |
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Well laid tans and sunglasses, |
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But it's over before it starts. |
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In a field in |
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Texas,Under the |
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Waco rain, |
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Pulled from the deepening quicksand, |
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By an angel and his chain. |
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I'll be your tongue. |
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You'll be my groove. |
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I'll be your positive. |
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You'll be my negative. |
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I'll be your tongue. |
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You'll be my groove. |
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I'll drive the get away, |
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And you bring the glue. |
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I'll be your velcro. |
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I'll be your velcro. |
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I'll be your velcro. |
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I'll be your velcro. |
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I'll be your velcro. |
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I'll be your velcro. |
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Now we're clacking at computers, |
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In the sickly light they throw. |
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All jonesing for wi-fi, |
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So we can steal more tv shows. |
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Watching a 6 year old on |
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YouTube,Playing drums to |
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Billie Jean. |
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Now this is the stuff that binds us, |
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This and all those dairy creams. |
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I'll be your tongue. |
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You'll be my groove. |
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I'll be your positive. |
|
You'll be my negative. |
|
I'll be your tongue. |
|
You'll be my groove. |
|
I'll drive the get away. |
|
And you bring the glue. |
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I'll be your velcro. |
|
I'll be your velcro. |
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I'll be your velcro. |
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I'll be your velcro. |
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I'll be your velcro. |
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I'll be your velcro. |
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I'll be your velcro. |
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We're heading home, airport screening, |
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Man has his rubber gloves on. |
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He says there's explosive residue on the strings of my guitar? |
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Well that will be six weeks of sweat now, |
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In a pop-rock combo. |
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Why don't you come and join us? |
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You can take all the solos? |
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I'll be your tongue. |
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You'll be my groove. |
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I'll be your positive. |
|
You'll be my negative. |
|
I'll be your tongue. |
|
You'll be my groove. |
|
I'll drive the get away, |
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And you bring the glue. |
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I'll be your velcro. |
