Field Trip - Squirtgun

Hey Lolly, it’s a french toast breakfast

We’re slidin' like a firehouse sundown

Feels like I oughta scream some chrome songs

Get as brittle as an eight track stone sound

Like a farmer on a never wilt acre

You ask me, maybe will never see a spaceman

I know what’s in that hangar in Ohio:

Dinosaur jaws and a lot of sorry glances

On a field trip

We won’t think about 'em, think about 'em

We’re where the freeway stretches

Out like pop songs

On a field trip

We won’t think bout 'em, thinnk about 'em

We’ll take a spray can

Paint the city like a coffee stiring stick

In the midnight we can walk like aliens

Pack our baggage in a red-head suitcase

The rainbow is a can of lucky colors

Just ignore the drama, haggle with some roosters