Tekst:
Trapper Chris Songs From The Drive In

like saviours from their crosses While the losers throw their scratch tickets on the ground As the moon shines down on Elvis Presley Boulevard And the tourists trapped

Used to see this old stray dog almost everyday He?d do his deed right by my house and then be on his way One time I brought him some real food and asked

The biker gang?s asleep now at the midnight motel six And I?m walking to the doughnut shop to get my late night fix I?m halfway across the country

their cars And write on the windows their fingerprint hearts. Then they slowly would drive home long after midnight I grew up in a house next to the Drive-In Erected and dreamed in 1953 From

He?s got that ripped down at the bottom, Spills down on the floor bad luck So, It?s that which makes you desperate That which drives you to your knees Makes you steal from