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Trash Can Sinatras Cake Maybe I Should Drive I'm on a B road heading for the sea To see if hands across the ocean Shake or wave Through the whiplash of the windscreen wipers I can see for miles But all I do is watch the time And the driver's hands He harbours thoughts on personal grief I said your hardship's Only one of a fleet That didn't go down well CHORUS Listen son if you'd spent Your life in the last lane You would have an accent to grind Punch-drunk on patriotism Blind-drunk on borderism Maybe I should drive And while you're castaway The mice'll play They'll have a license To dull those left back home What about those poor souls? And as I jumped to these conclusions He thumped his feet on the brakes But we still hit a songwriter Trudging through the rain Scrambled out and watched him Rest in pieces Said a prayer and rifled Through his pockets But the side of his mouth Still had something to say At the toss of a coin I end up head in the dirt And tail in the air Yet you can dance away But be it friend of hard-up-man Fellow or kin When the chips are down They're down for good |
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