The Ziggens
The Ziggens
The Ziggens
The Ziggens
The Ziggens
The Ziggens
The Ziggens
The Ziggens
The Ziggens
The Ziggens
The Ziggens
The Ziggens
The Ziggens
The Ziggens
The Ziggens
The Ziggens
The Ziggens
The Ziggens
The Ziggens
Friday night fish at the fireside
Sunday night church at riverside
We doused our fire stones with bleach
Our eyes would water as the tires screeched
Had a big fight on the boathouse dock
And I told my old man that I wanna rock
It was nineteen eighty-five
We would gladly sell our cars to keep the band alive
Don't you think it's a little absurd?
Don't you think the neighbors overheard?
We were screamin' at the top of our lungs
'cause mom wouldn't let us have a BB gun
In the snow I took my driver's test
Who'd've thought it'd lеad to my arrest
Did the cheerleadеrs give the cops a hint?
About the midnight egg-throwing incident
Then Dad turned on the fire
Mom passed out our parachutes
Big brother walked the wire
And I laced up my rocket boots
And we all piled in the Rambler
And we listened to the gambler on the way
"You gotta know when to hold 'em"
Our brains were happy and our feet were fried
At a dead halt 'cause the horse had died
We could stretch around a city block
That meant nothing to the typical jock
Then it came time to forge ahead
So Mikey and Me and Heather and Ed
Had to move to Californ-I-A
And I met and married my little Bonnie Jay
Then Dad turned on the fire
Mom passed out our parachutes
Big brother walked the wire
And I laced up my rocket boots
And we all piled in the Chevy
And we headed for the levee singing:
"Bye bye, Miss American pie"
On The Way was written by Brad Conyers.