Little brother's in the backyard revin' up the engine
|
Tuning up for Saturday night
|
Be a dirt track mogul
|
Racing round the oval
|
Passing everything in sight
|
But come Sunday mornin we'll all pile in
|
And head down the road to church
|
Mamma in the back hangin on for dear life
|
Cursing brother on every curve
|
|
Number 34 painted on the doors
|
Flames on the fenders
|
STP stickers
|
A Hurst shifter four on the floor
|
The preacher shuts his eyes
|
Starts preying hard
|
When brother cuts a donut in the church house yard
|
The congregation roars for number 34
|
|
When brother was a baby
|
We knew he'd be a racer
|
He loved the smell of gasoline
|
He could say Max Dumsdy
|
Before Dad and Mummy
|
He could even say Valvoline
|
He took the family car to the demolition derby
|
When he was just fifteen
|
He said don't worry mamma
|
I'll fix it up good
|
Now we've got a mean machine
|
|
With number 34 painted on the doors
|
Flames on the fenders
|
STP stickers
|
A Hurst shifter four on the floor
|
Even mamma now and then gets behind the wheel
|
And pops second gear and makes the rubber peel
|
A hot mamma for sure at number 34
|
The preacher shuts his eyes
|
Starts preying hard
|
When brother cuts a donut in the church house yard
|
The congregation roars for number 34
|
A hot mamma for sure is number 34
|
|
-----------------
|
Number 34
|
| Adam Brand |
