Music by Tony Palacios Words by Tony Palacios and Steve Taylor
Each night the dream began We were sitting here waiting on our coffee cans Eyes fixed upon the skies I was thinking of you and if I qualified Then when the trumpet blew The reality hit, this wasn't pay-per-view My can lifted up and out Until a siren wailed and a megaphone shouted
Pull that bucket over Let me see your registration You'll be questioned at the station by a good cop/bad cop If they find you guilty They'll impound your can in Hades Where the grounded lads and ladies had it good 'til the last drop
I watched the others fly On their coffee cans as they waved goodbye Freed from the earthy grind They had escaped the roast, I'd been identified Dream police nowhere to be found I was left here choking on the muddy grounds I calmed down and reached for my Pez But the head on the dispenser was Juan Valdez
Pull that bucket over Let me see your registration You'll be questioned at the station by a good cop/bad cop If they find you guilty They'll impound your can in Hades Where the grounded lads and ladies had it good 'til the last drop
Tossing in my sleepa gain The metaphor was wearing thin Until my nightmare stretched it even more Lord, you placed the bitter cup Against your lips and drank it up To bring me where you are I can't believe I've wandered off this far
Woke up and smelled the coffee I don't like what caffeine does to me God's got a pull I've felt first hand I've gotta stop believing in my coffee can
Pull that bucket over Let me see your registration You'll be questioned at the station by a good cop/bad cop If they find you guilty They'll impound your can in Hades Where the grounded lads and ladies had it good 'til the last drop
Bad dream, but I understand That you can't get to Heaven on a coffee can
