Foul-bin juice morning and dish-water skies

Traci, don't mind a little chorin'

She likes a one-litre liquor prize

Ah, Traci likes a drinky, when the kids are at school

Drinky

In her Juicy Couture tracksuit, she stares at the wall

Juicy

You can see her every night riding Mustangs

to her dreams (Mustangs)

Every single night, she's riding Mustangs

to her Dreams (Mustangs)

And there's the Pigman in a low-rider smoking

Rollies in the sunset, unholy from the road

He guzzles up the rider

He's like Pacman whеn he goes

Sister Mary shivеrs at the touch of the Lord

And the pastor behind her

tells her not to wear short shorts

She's alone with her thoughts in the garden of Eden

Oblivious to the dogs, and the advances of heathens

But every single night, she rides Mustangs

to her dreams (Mustangs)

Here's to the Pigman in the low-rider smokin'

Rollies in the sunset, unholy from the road

He guzzles up the rider

He's like Pacman when he goes

And all dream on tonight, diving Mustangs into the night

And all dream on tonight, diving Mustangs into the night

And all dream on tonight, diving Mustangs into the night

And all dream on tonight, diving Mustangs into the night

And all dream on tonight, diving Mustangs into the night

And all dream on tonight, diving Mustangs into the night