The Drifter Songtext
von Clutch
The Drifter Songtext
Who′s that drifter
On the side of the road
On the side of the ro-o-o-oad
I recognize him
In a dirty old robe
Dirty old robe, dirty old ro-o-o-obe
Let's go lift him
Wherever he goes
Wherever he goes he goes he go-oes
No more drifter
On the side of the road
On the side of the ro-o-o-oad
He climbed into
My big black truck
My big black tru-u-u-uck
He poured water In a wooden cup
In a wooden cup
In a wooden cu-u-u-up
Evil forces
He said to me
He said to me
He said to me-e-e-e
Caught my good scent
And on my heels
And on my he-e-e-eels
I will fight them
Whenever I can
Whenever I can I can I ca-an
With a smile
I will give my life and fight them on the other side
If you see a halo at least wave as you pass by it on the road
Cause that would be the drifter
Well on his way
Well on his wa-a-a-ay
We pulled into
A Flying J
A Flying J-a-a-a
There we both shared a piece of pizza pie
A piece of pizza pie
A piece of pizza pi-i-i-ie
Where you headed
I asked him
I asked hi-i-i-i-im
New York City
He said to me
He said to me
He said to me-e
If you take me he went on to say
He went on to sa-a-a-ay
I will give you
The map to the beyond
The map to the bey-ond
Sounds like a good deal
He paid the tip we both jumped up and got back in
If you see a halo at least wave as you pass by it on the road
We stopped to sleep
In east Tennessee
And he took the time to go out and he
Did a quick jig
On top of a hill
And when he returned
He slept for a spell
Cross Bronx expressway
At a quarter to four
Quarter to four
Quarter to fo-ur
Was a vendor
Selling cordless phones
Cordless phones
Cordless pho-ones
Drifter bought one
For ten dollars
Ten dollars
Ten dolla-a-ars
Made a phone call
It went a little like this
It went a little like thi-i-i-is
On my way now
And will be there soon
And will be there so-o-o-on
Bring my wet suit
And my good tapshoes
And my good tapsho-o-o-oes
Not the old ones
That hang upon the wall
Hang upon the wa-all
But the new ones
In the silver case
In the silver ca-a-a-ase
Then he hung up
And chucked it out my truck
Chucked it out my tru-uck
Central Park West
I paid a price to park
I paid a price to pa-ark
Mighty o-bliged
Then he winked at me
Then he winked at me-e-e-e
What about the parking
I yelled at him
I yelled at hi-i-i-im
Oh I forgot
Go to the Poconos
Go to the Poconos
On the side of the road
On the side of the ro-o-o-oad
I recognize him
In a dirty old robe
Dirty old robe, dirty old ro-o-o-obe
Let's go lift him
Wherever he goes
Wherever he goes he goes he go-oes
No more drifter
On the side of the road
On the side of the ro-o-o-oad
He climbed into
My big black truck
My big black tru-u-u-uck
He poured water In a wooden cup
In a wooden cup
In a wooden cu-u-u-up
Evil forces
He said to me
He said to me
He said to me-e-e-e
Caught my good scent
And on my heels
And on my he-e-e-eels
I will fight them
Whenever I can
Whenever I can I can I ca-an
With a smile
I will give my life and fight them on the other side
If you see a halo at least wave as you pass by it on the road
Cause that would be the drifter
Well on his way
Well on his wa-a-a-ay
We pulled into
A Flying J
A Flying J-a-a-a
There we both shared a piece of pizza pie
A piece of pizza pie
A piece of pizza pi-i-i-ie
Where you headed
I asked him
I asked hi-i-i-i-im
New York City
He said to me
He said to me
He said to me-e
If you take me he went on to say
He went on to sa-a-a-ay
I will give you
The map to the beyond
The map to the bey-ond
Sounds like a good deal
He paid the tip we both jumped up and got back in
If you see a halo at least wave as you pass by it on the road
We stopped to sleep
In east Tennessee
And he took the time to go out and he
Did a quick jig
On top of a hill
And when he returned
He slept for a spell
Cross Bronx expressway
At a quarter to four
Quarter to four
Quarter to fo-ur
Was a vendor
Selling cordless phones
Cordless phones
Cordless pho-ones
Drifter bought one
For ten dollars
Ten dollars
Ten dolla-a-ars
Made a phone call
It went a little like this
It went a little like thi-i-i-is
On my way now
And will be there soon
And will be there so-o-o-on
Bring my wet suit
And my good tapshoes
And my good tapsho-o-o-oes
Not the old ones
That hang upon the wall
Hang upon the wa-all
But the new ones
In the silver case
In the silver ca-a-a-ase
Then he hung up
And chucked it out my truck
Chucked it out my tru-uck
Central Park West
I paid a price to park
I paid a price to pa-ark
Mighty o-bliged
Then he winked at me
Then he winked at me-e-e-e
What about the parking
I yelled at him
I yelled at hi-i-i-im
Oh I forgot
Go to the Poconos
Go to the Poconos
Writer(s): Arno Carstens Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com