We need to change We need to rearrange And save lives From coming undone Fortunately I'm able to give myself Back to someone else Who needs me more
used to say, you can't afford this I wreck shops and got props from New York to Cali I'm Big Willie, you silly Sally from the valley Ain't nuttin' changed
the pacific I feel the look terrific Hitting switches in a classic Chevy Impala watch me tip it The sun is shining and couldn't be brighter I'm rolling down valley
was a cake drive She said, ?Drive me to the city, so I dropped her off at lakeside? You driving me home, well, I meant ta But plans have changed so get
right Be the ball, gonna see the world tonight Be the ball, hell-bent, damn, we love to drive We love to drive We love to drive Drive Be the ball,
life And maybe eat some steak with my beans and rice A place where my kids can play outside Without livin' in fear of a drive-by And even if I get away from them drive
The mist rolling in from the lochs to the Spey Will rise from the valleys as the dawn comes again We stand here together and prepare for the fray When
out wherever you are To all the MC's/to the gay MC's (but they grow orange trees in LA) To the hearts of gold NYC seasons change, summers fold And I
117 valley drive Seemed like heaven when the band arrived With a couple of drums and a couple guitars We'd play our hearts out in my backyard And the
don't know So tired of all the speculation Fed up of negative fabrications You say just have a little patience But they are driving me crazy Never been a surfer But my chang
Kind of like a see-saw, up and down A hundred and twelve milligrams of some of that There soft white baby powder, equals a they call up the Valley Heat
117 valley drive seemed like heaven when the band arrived with a couple of drums and a couple guitars we'd play our hearts out in my backyard and
only security. Fear is a powerful weapon against human development. Cowering in our temples of self there's little chance of change; The State is aware
the road is grey They drive in winnebagos from the everglades Pulled over by the troopers in the mirror shades The caravan is sorry The driver has a twenty and change
makes his nest in the rocks that overlook the valleys Where the sagebrush and the cottonwoods grow This is ranch country has been for more than one hundred years Well things have changed
Kind of like a see-saw, up and down (up and down!) A hundred and twelve milligrams of some of that there soft white baby powder, equals a ? up the Valley
