Mustang

Foul-bin juice morning and dish-water skies Traci, don't mind a little chorin' She likes a one-litre liquor prize Ah, Traci likes a drinky, when the kids are at school Drinky In her Juicy Couture tracksuit, she stares at the wall Juicy You can see her every night riding Mustangs to her dreams (Mustangs) Every single night, she's riding Mustangs to her Dreams (Mustangs) And there's the Pigman in a low-rider smoking Rollies in the sunset, unholy from the road He guzzles up the rider He's like Pacman whеn he goes Sister Mary shivеrs at the touch of the Lord And the pastor behind her, tells her not to wear short shorts She's alone with her thoughts in the garden of Eden Oblivious to the dogs, and the advances of heathens But every single night, she rides Mustangs to her dreams (Mustangs) Here's to the Pigman in the low-rider smokin' Rollies in the sunset, unholy from the road He guzzles up the rider He's like Pacman when he goes And all dream on tonight, diving Mustangs into the night And all dream on tonight, diving Mustangs into the night And all dream on tonight, diving Mustangs into the night And all dream on tonight, diving Mustangs into the night And all dream on tonight, diving Mustangs into the night And all dream on tonight, diving Mustangs into the night