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figure 8 - brook pridemore lyrics

[verse]
daddy built a racecar from his own hands
then he raced a figure 8 against many reckless men
driving deadly, driving metal, driving wicked, driving fast
always toward that intersection, just to pray that they don’t crash
one night when sitting on his lap, i asked him
how do you not collide?
when racing toward that intersection
how do you decide?
who’s gonna slow down?
who’s gonna give in maybe enough to let the other guys win?
who’s gonna take his foot off the gas?
maybe enough to let the other guys pass?
dad said, son, here’s some advice you got to promise not to take
the trick of the gig, my boy, is that you never, never hit the brake
he said son, don’t grow up to be a racecar driver
he said son, don’t grow up to be anything like your father
look at my car
it’s been ripped in half
i’m lucky to still be alive
when you turn 16, i’ll teach you to drive

[outro]
well, well, when you turn 16, i’ll teach you to drive

- brook pridemore lyrics

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