two acres of field and a gas station

riding on my moped, looking for fun

staring into the blood red sun



on the country road is a boulevard

with neon lights and night open bars

in my jacket a pack of playing cards

just jacks, jokers, and the queen of hearts



my heart is beating, beating like Ringo

as I pull into the drive-in bingo



why do the people in the country wanna look like the people in the city?

when the people in the city aren't the slightest pretty

I want the people in the country to wear flannel shirts and saggy jeans all covered in dirt

I want the people in the country to be open and kind

but most times I've met those with a narrow mind

with a big black dog to bite your behind

if htey ever find out you're not one of their kind

all these thoughts as I open up a zingo

Friday night at the drive-in bingo



so this is what they do out here for fun?

they play bingo and let their engines run?

tonight's jackpot is a pig, hey that's criminal!

G-42! ooh, I'm going diagonal!



I'm gonna gather up a few of my friends

as many fits into an army tent

just bring our savings and a bottle of wine 

to the Friday night's reversal of time!

this little south-west village shouldn't cost that much

maybe a handful of silver or a hundred bucks

we could have wild wild parties in that big old lodge and the windmill's perfect for movies and such

we could fake our deaths to get insurance money and take on hippie names

I'd be Snowphish, you'd be Sunny, we could start a little farm with little white bunnies

just cause watching them copulate is very funny



there's a cow and an ostrich just waiting for you!

a glass of apple cider just waiting for you!

the smell of 1952 just waiting for you!

and all I'm doing here is just waiting for you...



a daydream, I'm caught up in limbo

Friday night at the drive-in bingo