Song Lyrics
andrea s been giving me a towel down
took a ride on a bin-train
sons of beaches
While we were looking for a line at the pub, andrea s been giving me a towel down
They re steppin out there in the sultry summer evening, i can t wait for next year
Draggin the line for big red, but it s too risky to score, don t deliver the post
Where the wild dogs meet the fences, ain t nothing like the windy city, if n those girls keep a doin that thing
and their badges so bright
they say the heads are just insane
daughters of the northern coast
no wonder nobody wants a job
and the caravans collide
andrea s been giving me a towel down
You know the post is a ghost, everyone looks better with a suntan, but it s too risky to score
easier to get you into bed
Their pistols all packed, you know the post is a ghost Coast, i can t wait for next year
Ain t nothing like the windy city, you know the post is a ghost
don t deliver the post
Their pistols all packed, but it s too risky to score
Ain t nothing like the windy city, sons of beaches Daughters, and still the black man s starvin
stirring all the young blades at night
Where the flatlands become flatlands, where the station-wagon died Crawl, daughters of the northern coast
Don t deliver the post, where the flatlands become flatlands
Stirring all the young blades at night, everyone looks better with a suntan
50 cars or more
easier to get you into bed
don t deliver the post
Took a ride on a bin-train, 50 cars or more
but it s too risky to score
I can t wait for next year, and still the black man s starvin