Come and take a drive out of the city
Packed some smoke and some wine in an esky
Got to get the hell out of the suburbs
Hit the open road where the air's pure
And if the sun doesn't fall on your shoulder
As we make our way south past the beach
Then I could die a million deaths of dissapointment
I promised you your best times would be spent with me
Even in my car it shouldn't take long
We'll find a nice looking pier to park our chairs on
Leave the trouble of distance behind us
Thow in fishing rods gotten for christmas
Switch to Russian 
