Put Your Foot Down
Brock Zeman
It was a five hundred klicks and a pack of cigarettes
Coffee after coffee kind of a day
You know more and more lately I've been dreaming about being lazy
And pissing all my time away
A whole lotta nothing, that seems like something
Any doctor might prescribe to me
But the bills ain't paid by sitting in the shade
You've gotta burn some gasoline
So hey Walshy, put your foot down
And tell Blair to quit messing around
As soon as that sun hits the ground
I wanna be back home
A few more hours of driving
And I'll be standing in my kitchen
The fat lady ain't singing
She just cleared her throat
She just cleared her throat
Sometimes I dream that there's a lady waiting up for me
To come through the door and kick off my boots
She's lying in bed with a book on her chest
Whispering: hey baby is that you?
And I crawl in with her, pull her close and kiss her
And we sleep all through the morn
But then someone shakes me awake and says: We're gonna be late
Get in the van man, we gotta go
Last night I dreamed I saw Jack Kerouac
Hitch hiking on the side of the road
He was with Ginsberg and old Billy Boroughs
They had a sign that said: To Mexico
But sometimes late at night these roads play tricks on your eyes
And you can't tell what's real anymore
Like even right now, as I'm pulling up to my house
It's tricking me into thinking I'm home