Me
Thursday, January 20th, 2011
+Lotsa Luck
When you’re driving through the desert, and your car runs out of gas,
Lotsa luck, pal, lotsa luck.
When you try to stop some strangers they will holler as they pass,
Lotsa luck, pal, lotsa luck.
So you walk eight miles, and all uphill, to call the Auto Club,
And the whole thing’s nip and tuck.
‘Cause...





























































