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                                    WRECKING YARD

 Words and music by Kenyon Ledford 1995 Ojai Jax BMI

Okay, well, there's no music on this because I've yet to record it...

On the shoulder, off of the right hand lane, there're old tires and oil seals

And burnt rubber trails, left by the desperate, who've had to lock up their wheels

In the right hand lane you see the defeated bound by towing chains

And choking on the dust left behind by the cars in the passing lanes

Who've got their sunglasses on, sunroofs open, and the sun shining on their chrome

That same sun beats down in the right hand lane and they grip the wheel and try to make it home

In the right hand lane

In the right hand lane

Some of them, their hoods ripped right off, will never get to fifty-five

While inside the owners light up cigarettes, and try to deal with their lives

In the right hand lane

In the right hand lane

And there ain't no air bags, and as for seat belts, it makes no difference to them

'Cause there ain't no beating the highway can dish out, be any worse than what life has done

Again and again

Again and again

In the right hand lane, on the bashed in bumpers

They send each other messages

They say: One Day at a Time; Don't Worry, Be Happy; and Easy Does It,

But hey, Shit Happens

In the right hand lane

In the right hand lane

Driving home from work, pressure gauge on red, a white porsche on my ass

He shot around and gave me the finger, instead of signaling as he passed

A black and a Mexican on my street pushing some old 'fifty-four

I left my car and got inbetween them, and we got that Chevy to a garage door

We're drinking beer and talking about the lottery, and the cars we'll drive some day

Me, I'll restore some old broken down beauty that's going to blow them all away

In the passing lane

In the passing lane