Oversized Casket
I saw you rolling past the hardware store, a pavement princess looking for a war.
Ten inch lift and a mirror shine, wasting diesel just to cross the line.
Got a pipe that's cracking the morning sky, wondering who you're hoping to justify.
Chrome on the fenders, dust in your head, leaving me wishing I was deaf instead.
Oh, keep your foot down, rattle my bones, in your Versace casket of silver and chrome.
A verbal tomb tantrum, a mechanical yell, high-octane ego that won't look your way.
Before you kill someone just to win the day, yeah, before you kill someone just to win the day.
Then comes the tuner with a carbon wing, electronic pop and a digital sting.
Spat out spark plugs and a rev limit roar, like a toddler kicking at a cellar door.
You're compensating for a lack of soul, drifting the corner out of all control.
My sanity is thinning, my eardrums are fried, waiting for the moment your luck has died.
Oh, keep your foot down, rattle my bones, in your Versace casket of silver and chrome.
A verbal tomb tantrum, a mechanical yell, high-octane ego that won't look your way.
Before you kill someone just to win the day, yeah, before you kill someone just to win the day.
It's a wickedly game with a killer's end, a hollow display that you can't defend.
The asphalt is hungry, the city is loud, you're on a down, shut it off, put the ultimate test.
Oh, keep your foot down, rattle my bones, in your Versace casket of silver and chrome.
A verbal tomb tantrum, a mechanical yell, high-octane ego that won't look your way.
Before you kill someone just to win the day, yeah, before you kill someone just to win the day.
Just turn it off, get gone, my ears are ringing.
Ugh, shut it down.