Engine in Contention (Can't Get Far)

Sheriff Bill came down the hill

Said I'd burned my dollar bill

Which is why I can't get gas

to cross the great water

No I can't get far

with my engine in contention

Feeling bored

with the whine of my engine

Spinning those wheels

across that desert

for miles and miles

miles and miles

Dirt on the dash

Gotta a bunch of scratches

Just might explode

before it ups and crashes

I can't get far

with my engine in contention

No we can't get far

with our engines in contention

Tweeting my missives into the Trumpster dumpster

Tweeting my missiles into the endless pointless ether

I am wearing camouflage at the coffeehouse

and my Ford Exploder broke down

Just might need a llama, Dolly

When all is lost

and the gloss if off the posh

My Ford Exploder can't get off

and running

to save the girl upon the bridge

I can't get far

with my engine in contention

No we can't get far

with our engines in contention

I can't get far

with my engine in contention

No we can't get far

with our engines in contention

Editor's notes: The updated lyrics for the lone Bards of Mythville hit,

"Engine in Contention," produced by Martin "Tex" Barringer

Greyhound Bus Driver Blues

Run it like a prison ship,

the bus driver said

as if he had a whip

Been there, seen that

and he's not going

to take any crap

So pull up your pants

I know it's a fashion

but nobody wants

to see your ass

I got the Greyhound bus driver blues

those sunset on Route 66 Flagstaff blues

He got at the wheel shouting orders over the mic

like a prison ship, oh lordy lo, keep your head low

Why you gottta be like that?

The bus driver main ain't nobody

running his deal 

on a bad trip

You have drugs, 

well, you do them for fun

but the bus driver man 

is going to leave you

and he ain't gonna stop

in Cleveland or Idaho

Even if you wave and run

I got the Greyhound bus driver blues

those sunset on Route 66 Flagstaff blues

Flying off the wheel 

shouting orders over the mic

like a prison ship, but I an't no psycho 

Why you gottta be like that

on the ear blasting device, Oh!

So don't talk back

on the road to Vegas

the bus driver man don't

 have no taste for it

and he'll leave you

in Tortilla Flat

You don't wanna

see him coming

You get my grasp?

I got the Greyhound bus driver blues

those sunset on Route 66 Flagstaff blues

the got at the wheel shouting orders over the mic

like a prison ship, oh lordy lo, can I ride my bike 

why you gottta be like that?