Sunday Driver (Blue County)

Aw, yeah His left elbow, is hanging out the window His left finger, is steering the wheel His right arm is, wrapped around his sweetheart And it's paradise inside his love mobile Well I am stuck here, right behind him I'm held hostage by the double yellow line The sign says fifty five, he's going thirty And it's clear to me that he has no concern for time He's a Sunday, a Sunday driver He don't want to get his baby home too soon He's a Sunday, a Sunday driver In the middle of my Thursday afternoon Oh I will not, blink my headlights Oh no I will not honk my horn 'Cause I know, I know just what he's feeling 'Cause I've been in that sweet, driver's seat before He's a Sunday, a Sunday driver He don't want to get his baby home too soon He's a Sunday, a Sunday driver In the middle of my Thursday afternoon There is a growing line of angry cars behind us It's the center fear of mental and single file I will not interrupt his romance Well, I'll be his guardian angel for a while He's a Sunday, a Sunday driver He don't want to get his baby home too soon He's a Sunday, a Sunday driver In the middle of my Thursday afternoon Yeah in the middle of my Thursday afternoon