Limited to driving forty-five and tilted to the right
Miles to go, I got 3 good tires & a donut, I pray I make it through the night
I'm low on gas and high as a rain cloud thundering down the road
I'll drive this old jalopy 'till I burn it up or until I make it home
Sleepless nights and nodding at the wheel trying to get to you
I've tried a bunch of highways riding around and found there ain't no substitute
For a down-home-mama to whisper in my ear, while talking on the phone
She said, "Hurry sweet papa! Put your pedal to the metal and come and get you some!"
Busted flat and broken-down glory coasting into town
I finally get a breather to clear my head and lay my weary hammer down
But there isn't any rest for the working stiff. He's got to make a dime
I say hey pretty baby, let's go get crazy now or give me a better time
The Angry Sinners - 3 Good Tires (& a Donut) Lyrics
The Angry Sinners - 3 Good Tires (& a Donut) Lyrics
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Limited to driving forty-five and tilted to the right
Miles to go, I got 3 good tires & a donut, I pray I make it through the night
I'm low on gas and high as a rain cloud thundering down the road
I'll drive this old jalopy 'till I burn it up or until I make it home
Sleepless nights and nodding at the wheel trying to get to you
I've tried a bunch of highways riding around and found there ain't no substitute
For a down-home-mama to whisper in my ear, while talking on the phone
She said, "Hurry sweet papa! Put your pedal to the metal and come and get you some!"
Busted flat and broken-down glory coasting into town
I finally get a breather to clear my head and lay my weary hammer down
But there isn't any rest for the working stiff. He's got to make a dime
I say hey pretty baby, let's go get crazy now or give me a better time
Miles to go, I got 3 good tires & a donut, I pray I make it through the night
I'm low on gas and high as a rain cloud thundering down the road
I'll drive this old jalopy 'till I burn it up or until I make it home
Sleepless nights and nodding at the wheel trying to get to you
I've tried a bunch of highways riding around and found there ain't no substitute
For a down-home-mama to whisper in my ear, while talking on the phone
She said, "Hurry sweet papa! Put your pedal to the metal and come and get you some!"
Busted flat and broken-down glory coasting into town
I finally get a breather to clear my head and lay my weary hammer down
But there isn't any rest for the working stiff. He's got to make a dime
I say hey pretty baby, let's go get crazy now or give me a better time
Writer: Robert Van de Riet
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid