Gasoline

Album: Detours (2008)
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  • Way back in the year of 2017
    The sun was growing hotter
    And oil was way beyond it's peak
    When crazy Hector Johnson broke into the refinery
    And the black gold started flowing
    Just like Boston tea

    It was the summer of the riots
    And London suffered sweltering heat
    And the gangs of Mini Coopers
    Took the battle to the streets
    But when the creed was handed down
    For no more trucks and no more cars
    They threw cans of petrol through the windows at Scotland Yard

    And they yelled,

    [Chorus]
    Gasoline
    Will be free, will be free
    Gasoline
    Will be free, will be free

    When the Mounties stormed the palace of the Saudi family
    They held them up for ransom
    Without disturbing their high tea
    But their getaway was shaky
    They stalled in the Riyadh streets
    'Cause you can't make it very far
    When your tank is on empty

    The final can of gasoline was loaded on a truck
    And driven through the streets of Agra to the palace aqua duct
    You see, all the majesty of worship that once adorned these fatal halls
    Was just a target for the angry
    As they blew up the Taj Mahal

    [Chorus: x2]

    Oh yeah, yeah, yeah
    Oh yeah, yeah, yeah
    Oh yeah, yeah, yeah

    My friend, Gary ran a market way down in Tennessee
    Where all the farmers got together and talked about this great country
    But when the government turned its back on farming
    Man, what I hear
    They dragged the pumps out of the ground
    With a big vintage John Deere

    Well I have soldiers on my payroll
    Standing guard on my front drive
    Snipers on the roof poised at those
    Who don't want me alive

    'Cause they audited my taxes
    My family under threat
    'Cause I've got a message and a megaphone
    And I'll scream it to the death

    [Chorus: x2]

    Oh yeah, yeah, yeah
    Oh yeah, yeah, yeah
    Oh yeah, yeah, yeah

    You got the farms in Argentina
    Making fuel from sugar cane
    You got the bastards in Washington
    Afraid of popping the greed vain

    'Cause the money's in the pipeline
    And pipeline's running dry
    And we'll be the last to recognize
    Where there is shit there is always flies. Writer/s: BILL BOTTRELL, JEFF TROTT, SHERYL CROW
    Publisher: Anthem Entertainment, Downtown Music Publishing, Reservoir Media Management, Inc.
    Lyrics licensed and provided by LyricFind

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