Nervous Norvus Lyrics
Transfusion

[Norvus makes car engines sounds with his mouth.]

Toolin' down the highway doin' seventy-nine.
I'm a twin-pipe papa and I'm feelin' fine.
Hey man, dig that, was that a red stop sign?

[Sound of screeching tires then a crash.]

Transfusion, transfusion.
I'm just a solid mess of contusions.
I'm never, never, never gonna speed again.
Slip the blood to me, Bud.

I jump in my rod about a quarter to nine.
I gotta make a date with that chick of mine.
I cross the center line, man, you gotta make time.

[Sound of screeching tires then a crash.]

Transfusion, transfusion.
Oh, man, I got the cotton-pickin' convolutions.
I'm never, never, never gonna speed again.
Slip the juice to me, Bruce.

My foot's on the throttle and it's made of lead.
But I'm a fast ridin' daddy with a real cool head.
I'm a-gonna pass a truck on the hill ahead.

[Sound of screeching tires then a crash.]

Transfusion, transfusion.
My red corp-suckles [sic] are in mass confusion.
Never, never, never gonna speed again.
Pour the crimson in me, Jimson.
[ Find more Lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.org/ekBt ]

I took a little drink and I'm feelin' right.
I can fly right over everything, everything in sight.
There's a slow-pokin' cat, I'm gonna pass him on the right.

[Sound of screeching tires then a crash.]

Transfusion, transfusion.
I'm a real gone paleface and that's no illusion.
I'm-a never, never, never gonna speed again.
Pass the claret to me, Barret.

a-Rollin' down the mountain on a rainy day,
Oh, when you see me comin' you better start to pray.
I'm-a cuttin' up the road, I'm the boss all the way.

[Sound of screeching tires then a crash.]

Transfusion, transfusion.
Oh, Doc, pardon me for this crazy intrusion.
I'm never, never, never gonna speed again.
Pump the fluid in me, Louie.

I'm-a burnin' up the freeway early this morn.
I'm-a passin' everybody, oh, nothin' but corn.
Man, outta my way, I don't drive with my horn.

[Sound of screeching tires then a crash.]

Transfusion, transfusion.
Oh, nurse, I'm gonna make a new resolution.
I'm never, never, never gonna speed again.
Put a gallon in me Allen.

Oh, barnyard drivers are found in two classes,
Line-crowding hogs and speeding jackasses.
So remember to slow down today.

[Spoken:]
Hey, daddio, ah, make that type O, hunh.
Atta boy.

[Sound of screeching tires then a crash.]