I Want My Flying Car Songtext
von Tom Smith

I′m a twenty-first century man
With my twenty-first-century stuff
But my GPS and PCI-Express
Are never gonna be enough

I got a toothbrush that turns the mattress,
Got a phone that'll walk the cat
My plasma TVs record DVDs
But I don′t care about that

I want my flying car
I want my flying car
I want this two-bit Dodge the hell out of my garage
Hitch my station wagon to a star
I want my flying car

They told us we'd have robots and portable fusion,
Clone our bodies so we wouldn't stay dead,
But I have to doubt ′cause it didn′t come out
The way Mr. Asimov said.


My coffee brews itself every morning,
My shower cleans itself every night,
But twice a day I'm caught in a traffic knot
I′m growing older at every red light.

I want my flying car
I want my flying car
You know it just ain't fair, I wanna hit the air
Bid the street life au revoir,
I want my flying car
I want my flying car
If I make a mistake I can use my air brake,
Or grab a phone line with a spar,
I want my flying car

No more waitin′ and hatin, and jerks tailgatin'
When I′m levitatin' over the town.
Parking fees wouldn't matter, I′d drop a rope ladder
Over side and climb right down.
No barrels or cones or construction zones,
No blasting radio in the next lane,
I′d put on a Stetson and make like George Jetson,
If I've got a flyin′ car, I can get a girl like a
Jane!

... Jane, stop this crazy thing!


A thousand miles to the gallon,
It never rides bumpy or loud,
When the weather gets nasty, I make a real fast Z-
Positive climb through the clouds,
I never worry 'bout signs or signals,
′Cause who's gonna take me to jail?
Wait, what′s that siren? Is someone else flyin'?
I got pigs on the wing on my tail.

Up in my flying car
I want my flying car
Why stay on the ground when you can drive around
In a Chevrolet Shooting Star?
I want my flying car
I want my flying car
Well, I don't care how, ′cause I′m ready now,
The future can't be that far,
I want my flying car.