Driving down the freeway As if I was on downers Followed off the exit ramp By a scene from close encounters Out of the van Walk a straight line Lost count of the beers Somewhere around nine Drunk and driving, boy You really fucked up Now you`re in the squad car Hands in back, cuffed Seven hundred dollars Or eight months, son Checked my pockets, but I knew I had none They took away my license They said I can`t drive Said that I should thank them I`m "lucky to be alive" Locked in a cell For weeks at a time My friends got me out My bail was my fine Now I`m on the outside Me and all my friends Drunk and driving reckless Just waiting to get caught again
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