A Place Called Slaughter Race歌词

作词 : Tom MacDougall/Phil Johnston
作曲 : Alan Menken
What can it be that calls me to this place today?
This lawless car ballet, what can it be?
Am I a baby pigeon, sprouting wings to soar?
Was that a metaphor? Hey, there's a Dollar Store
Look, I’m rhyming; my spirit's climbing
As I'm called through this fog of mace
To this place called Slaughter Race
Welcome back, watch your head
Hate to see you end up dead
Let’s get this party rolling
Is that appliance stolen?
We have
Fallen wires, dumpster fires,
Creepy clowns, and burning tires
That great white in the sewer
You'll be happy that you knew her (Thimble)
Dogs and cats, they sure taste great
With a side of license plate
Some flag us deplorable
Well, I think you're adorable
We may be a motley crew, but our hearts ring true
And just for you, a face tattoo
Ah, Slaughter Race, ooh-ooh-oh
My heart's in flight, and, wow, it's a blast
Feels like my dreams are real at least
No trace of a frown upon your face
Flying so fast
Setting the pace
Living the life
Loving the chase
Now is the time
Here is the place
This Slaughter Race
I know I should go
But home feels so slow
These roads are paved with dreams
Happy dreams, not creepy clown dreams
What would Ralph say if it turns out I stay
In this place called Slaughter Race?
In this place called Slaughter Race