I wonder often why I could never escape the desire to sit in the driver seat for miles and miles to share a little piece of my heart with an audience. Then I thought you know being in the front seat of your dreams is exactly where people often spend a lifetime trying to find.
Makes me thankful for the my subconscious and prevalent devotion to a set a strings and a full tank of gas.
Lyrics
Metal bleachers and a fanny pack
Every Saturday night at the dirt track race
If the ground was smooth and the engine ran tight
He’d win a few dollars and take us for a ride in the red clay
Behind the wheel
was a starry eyed dreamer
With the telltale signs
of coming down with
The front Seat Fever
It was a 95 Ford Powerstroke
He’d pick her up down at the grocery store
take it for a long drive
By the river where you roll across
They’d turn up some Mickey and the Motorcars
Pass around a good time
Behind the wheel
Was a love struck dreamer
With the telltale signs
Of coming down with
The Front-seat Fever
Saddle blankets on a bench-seat
Seem to make it easy
To slide over
If we’re running on empty
You know it’s not a big thing
If we need to go slower
My full disclosure
That the hum of a motor
Has me acting weaker
Like the Front-seat fever
I got the front-seat fever