Driver! Driver! Not so bright
to get us lost so late at night!
Your flawed hand and sleepy eye
have brought us to this cemetery.
With what pissed and ill-bred guys
did you get such blood-shot eyes?
With what hope can I aspire
to not go out in balls of fire?
And what boulders, and what carts
could make me jolt like your foul farts?
And when your heart began to beat,
did doctors curse your smelly feet?
You've just swerved into a drain!
In what furnace burns your brain?
Driving straight beyond your grasp?
Around my head my arms I clasp.
When we circled Bucks and Sears,
your mirror saw my bitter tears.
And then I blubbered miserably:
"Are you on the lam with me?"
Driver! Driver! Not so bright
to get us lost so late at night!
Your flawed hand and sleepy eye
have brought us to this cemetery.