lyrics

black Chrysler ’71/slides by on the freeway
suicide doors and a hole in the floor
so you can see if you’re enjoying the ride
new twist-off, hand on the wheel
get a jump on the weekend
40 riding shotgun 3-day beard dog tags and a picture of you
picture of you
smiling like you knew what this was what it was coming to
i tried to get through
but you’re never home and you’re never alone
what can i do
start talking after the tone/no name just a number
television turned up counterfeit C-cups
screenplay work on the side
she’s playing for the long goodnight
i’m keeping the engine running
missionary drive-by no alibi
trying to picture anybody but you
picturing you
smiling like you knew what this was what it was coming to
i tried to get through
but you’re never home and you’re never alone
what can i do
breakdown on the 405/drivetime dj weekend
living in first gear nothing left to see
here nobody’s leaving alive
one station spinning the dial
wall street’s running the countdown
couple quarts low got nowhere to go with a
bullet and a picture of you
picture of you
smiling like you knew what this was what it was coming to
i tried to get through
but you’re never home and you’re never alone
what can i do

story

In Los Angeles, you do everything in your car…even your three-day malt liquor benders. The story of a borderline stalker’s slow, automotive slide into jealous oblivion, leavened with loud guitars and Brian Wilson-style vocal harmonies. Fun!