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