Sunday Driving

Sunday I was walking through a junkyard
Lookin' for a certain old blue car
A '60's Tempest, with a million miles
It found me first

I sat down behind the dashboard
Turned the radio up,
There's Cousin Brucy playing rock and roll songs
Beach Boys singing we'll have fun, fun, fun
I'm rollin' the windows down

Flowers may grow through holes in the fenders
My backroads will always remember
Sunday driving with my Father and brother
Holding on, holding on to each other
Far away from the turbulent waters
Sunday drivin', forever

Ridin' shotgun
Through those holy hills
I've got to break through so I can ring those bells
I've waited all week for my one day away
from six days of hell.

Chorus

Bridge
He used to say "son, put a long road behind you"
And you'll see what this living is for,
Don't surrender when the world surrounds you
Here's the key to the Pontiac's door

Pins and needles on the back of neck
Goosebumps sitting here in this rusted old wreck
The past is what it is, I guess I ain't over it yet


© 1999 Burt Street Music(BMI)
Words and music by Michael Veitch
14 Oriole Drive, Woodstock, NY 12498 (845)679-1108
MVEITCH@aol.com