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In My Way

(David Trabue: Boiled Strings Music)

 

I hate a stick shift, it gets in my way.

For drinking & driving it blows every day.

I canít use my cell phone, I canít eat my meals.

Iíll go automatic on my next set of wheels.

 

I hate religion, it gets in my way.

For shucking & jiving it blows every day.

I canít chase the ladies, I canít cheat & lie.

Iím going agnostic til the day that I die.

 

The world is filled with many things

That tend to piss me off

Like the doc who says youíre fine

But touch your toes and coughÖ

 

I hate the minivan, gets in my way

The people who drive Ďem, they blow every day.

They donít use their signals, they canít really drive.

Iíll drive me a semi, take me out 4 or 5Ö.

 

The world is filled with so many things

That tend to get my goat.

Like the guy out on the lake

Who canít even drive a boatÖ

 

I hate my day job. It gets in the way

Of pickiní and singiní. It blows every day.

I canít grab my guitar whenever I likeÖ.

Iíll win me the lotto, tell Ďem all take a hike.

 

But I love my sweetie, she gives me my way

For laughiní and loviní she blows every day.

I canít live without her, I donít even try

Iím going with my baby to the sweet by and by.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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