Letras: Brandtson. Some Kind Of Jet Pilot.

Sleepy-eyed
And bed headed
Nine a.m., traffic jam
And I'm late for work again

There are planes overhead
People going places
And I'm dreaming I'm
On my way with them

But I just want to be
Driving through
Just want to be
Driving through

I got my sunglasses and the radio on
I'm feeling good just like I could
Roll up my sleeves and take on the world but

But if the city had its way
It would swallow me whole
I won't let it swallow me now

I just want to be
Driving through
Just want to be
Driving through

Through the night to be with you
Or maybe on my way to New York
Or towards the western sky
I don't really care, I'd just drive

Just want to be
Driving through
Just want to be
Driving through

Just want to be
Driving through