| Lady lay down
|
| It’s evening again
|
| A rusted bus come to California
|
| To leave it again
|
| Four years have afforded me
|
| A roof and tires to ride on
|
| To roll down these dusty roads
|
| I’ve made my home
|
| A soul sittin' on an old marquee in neon
|
| A heart skippin' for the beat that keeps me movin' on
|
| Singin', we are Westfalia
|
| It’s the feeling we’re following
|
| It’s the rush with the windows down
|
| Cool water, winding around us
|
| Twisting vistas to far off towns
|
| In the distance we all just settle down
|
| But now we’re heading out Westfalia
|
| The slow lane on the highway
|
| Just fifty five
|
| But the fast track to freedom’s firing overdrive
|
| Cut off and let’s kill those headlights
|
| Take off and get lost in the moonlight
|
| Nowhere else I’d rather be than where we are now…
|
| A soul sittin' on an old marquee in neon
|
| A heart skippin' for the beat that keeps me movin' on
|
| Singin', we are Westfalia
|
| It’s the feeling we’re following
|
| It’s the rush with the windows down
|
| Cool water winding around us
|
| Twisting vistas to far off towns
|
| In the distance we all just settle down
|
| But now we’re heading out Westfalia
|
| Singin', we are Westfalia
|
| It’s the feeling we’re following
|
| It’s the rush with the windows down
|
| Cool water, winding around us
|
| Twisting vistas to far off towns
|
| In the distance we all just settle down
|
| But now we’re heading out Westfalia |