Carl Broemel - Sunday Drivers lyrics

Sunday drivers stole my keys Friendly fire tore my jeans Oh what in the world is happening to me? Yeah what in the world is happening to me? I know you fall When you're trying to walk And I know your faults You're perfectly wrong Television with rabbit ears Never really comes in clear Fair weather whether anytime of year Fair weather whether anytime of year I know you fall When you're trying to walk And I know your faults You're perfectly wrong In your own In your own In your own In your own In your own way In your own In your own In your own In your own In your own way Method actors pour my drinks And tight rope walkers with two left feet I fair-weather whether everyone you meet I fair-weather whether everyone you meet I fair-weather whether everyone you meet I fair-weather whether everyone you meet I fair-weather whether everyone you meet I fair-weather whether everyone you meet I fair-weather whether everyone you meet I fair-weather whether everyone you meet I fair-weather whether everyone you meet