| His feet are dirty
|
| And his face, his face is long
|
| Yeah, and while he’s peeking out through his hair
|
| He hides the pain
|
| Till that Lennon song comes along
|
| He’ll turn it off and say
|
| «Can you drive?»
|
| Drive
|
| Can you drive?
|
| Drive
|
| Can you drive?
|
| Jimi, we need to borrow this for a minute
|
| 'Cause we need to escape
|
| Now, there’s so many things that he’s gonna do
|
| In five lifetimes, hell, I couldn’t do 'em all
|
| Yeah, and while he’s rolling his own smokes
|
| He says to me he’s buying a new ride today
|
| A classic deal the boss will give
|
| He said the same thing two weeks ago
|
| You’ve seen that sweaty jet rag feeling come over him
|
| And I’ve seen that boy nod
|
| And go into a dream, a time or two
|
| And on his way out, his glazed stare
|
| Will make you stop and wonder
|
| Hey William, is that the last time I’m gonna look at you?
|
| Yeah
|
| (But the next day, a phone will ring
|
| And it’ll be him)
|
| Can you drive?
|
| Drive (Can you drive?)
|
| Can you drive
|
| Can you drive?
|
| Jimi, what would you say?
|
| What would you do?
|
| Oh, should I pray?
|
| Or do you think that this blind mind
|
| Would listen to me, anyway? |