Ah, look at all the muddled drivers
Ah, they are such befuddled drivers

Eleanor Rigby, driving for miles down the road with her turn signal on
Her mind is gone
Waiting at green lights, looking in every direction except straight ahead
Must be inbred

All the lazy drivers, where do they all come from?
All the crazy drivers, what makes them drive so dumb?

Father McKenzie, out on the highway and going about ninety-five*
Will he survive?
Look at him swerving, trying to stay in his lane as he talks on the phone
He's not alone

All the bone head drivers, where do they all come from?
All the brain dead drivers, what makes their brains so numb?

Ah, look at all the loony drivers
Ah, they are such buffoon-y drivers

Eleanor Rigby, hurt in a crash when she pulled out in front of a truck
End of her luck
Father McKenzie, hospitalized 'cause the truck that hit Rigby was his
That's how it is

All the drowsy drivers, where do they all come from?
All the lousy drivers, are they all drinking rum?


*MPH, not KPH.