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Gerry Coogan songs   Songwriter:  Gerry Coogan
  • http://e3d11129fc23b90f22d9444f95676f0e.s3.amazonaws.com/file/music/2014/04/SampleMusic60634.mp3

    Road Rage

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Gerry Coogan songs




I was driving down to Kyle's house for a writing session when I became aware of the fact that I was about to die in a few seconds time. Well, not quite, but nearly. However, no thanks are due to the loony who attempted a near impossible overtaking manouevre which would have resulted in carnage if other drivers hadn't practically stood their vehicles on their noses as they braked for dear life. I'm not sure what the exact U.S. equivalent is to "TOSSER". But, for those of you not familiar with the term, let me just say that it's not a compliment.

I arrived at Kyle's and, after I'd changed into a fresh pair of trousers, we started work on this addition to the canon of driving songs.



Kyle does the lead vocal, bass, guitars and drums; I do the keyboards and backing vocals. Ideally, we'd have liked to get Marc Bolan to play some lead guitar but that proved to be unfeasible.



Enjoy. JahLove; ~GerryMATW







Road Rage



(Words & Music by Gerry Coogan & Kyle Robertson)

Steer clear of his way
If you want to last the day...

He ride into controversy,
He seeking confrontation,
You’d better not use his lane,
(you know what I’m saying)
Or he’ll trouble you.

He’s set on overtaking you,
Ninety-five ain’t fast enough,
He can’t get past enough
In his souped-up B.M.W.

He’s on your tailgate,
Face at the windscreen,
He’ll cut you up
Like a psycho on amphetamines,

Woh-oh-oh-oh-oh, road rage.

He may blow a gasket,
His eyeballs burn like headlights,
We got a man on a mission,
Race you to the red light,

So you can expect no courtesy,
That’s not in his repertoire,
You can see by his number plate;
Tee-oh-double-five-E-R.

He give no quarter,
He press the pedal in,
He’s a highwayman,
Pumped up on adrenaline.

Woh-oh-oh-oh-oh, road rage.

Flying down the motorway,
Digging up the fast lane,
Beginning the final lap,
(take it away),
Ayrton Senna style.

Crashing through the barrier,
Reaching his expiry date,
Now he is really late;
He never went that extra mile.

Now on my tailgate,
I see a ghostly car,
That registration, —
Tee-oh-double-five-eeh-arr.
 
Woh-oh-oh-oh-oh, road rage.
   likes this.
Larry Killam
Enjoyed da Listen Gerry WinkLOVE IT MANWink
  • November 13, 2015
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