Johnny's got a license but he don’t know how to drive,
His vision’s 20-20, but his mind aint half alive,
It might have been his daddy, who made Johnny fetch his beer,
Or his dear old momma, the woman always hid in fear,
Could it be the preacher that never treat him right?
All we know is Johnny’s always itching for a fight
Johnny drives an LTD, an angry shade of black
A crowbar riding shotgun, a 12-pack on his lap
He light’s himself 2 Salems as he’s rolling thru the hood
Skynyrd on his Alpine, Johnny’s feeling good
The negroes doing 90, the negroes doing 10
He’s wants to jack the bunch of them and praise the Lord Amen
Johnny’s getting angry just to make things feel better
Johnny’s getting angry just to make things feel right
When he was a young boy he never licked the batter
Johnny got a license, but he don’t know how to drive
He hates them Jew lawyers always yapping in the phone
Them stubby Orientals that drive like they are stoned
Those skinny hippie bikers, Johnny want to yank ‘em by the hair
Let them meet his Louisville, while duct-taped to a chair
Subarus with bumper stickers make him want to scream
The dykes that drive them, he wanna drown ‘em in a stream
But ole Johnny’s got a soft spot, he kind of likes his dog
He sometimes feeds him breakfast, and even takes him for a walk
He also like to paint a bit, but mainly for the fumes
A half a pint of lacquer while he’s chillin’ in his room
Could it be that one-eyed preacher that never treat him right?
All we know is Johnny’s always itching for a fight
Smooth, sophisticated pop with neoclassical flourishes from the Berlin-based duo of Fabian Till and Birk Buttcherey. Bandcamp New & Notable May 2, 2024