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lyrics
Careening Continental
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It's long and black like Jim McGarrett's
A sex machine and you can't compare it
To anything from the Rising Sun
Iron block, it's American
In my careening continental
I'll bet you think that I've gone mental
In my careening continental
She responds to every bump in the road
She don't complain when she handles my load
Leather seats, they feel so nice
On my naked skin in the middle of the night
[CHORUS]
Hey boy, you headed for Minnesota?
Whatcha got in that there backpack...
I'll bet it rolls up real nice.
Gas, grass or ass... nobody rides for free.
I've finally come to my senses
I've had enough of your laws and your fences
I wanna ride over buffalo tombs
In my big, black, Continental leather-clad womb
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