Let’s face it people: They’re fucking dangerous.
I don’t wanna run outta oil 300 feet in the air.
I don’t want some drunkard
falling outta the sky,
exploding in my backyard at 3 a.m.,
and taking my shed with ’em.
No sir,
I’ll take a car that drives on dirt.
I’ll take a car that breathes the same air as me.
Because I don’t care how many propellers it has;
no damn car
could be weightless
as a bird.
I mean, who are they kidding?
We weren’t meant to have wings.
We weren’t meant to have gills, or three eyes neither.
Cats hunt rats cause they got claws.
I live
on land
not in sky.
And so it just ain't right.
I couldn’t trust the cars
or the people in ‘em.
And you shouldn’t neither.