THE SKA SONG

We're two young musicians
separated from our snookims
In a little town called Provo,
far from Vegas, far from Barstow
We're moving on a freeway,
move on over, give us leeway
In a blue-grey smashed up K-car,
we'll be heading towards L.A.

20, 40, 60, 80,
90 miles an hour
Is how fast our hearts are beating
and the engine's getting louder
Down I-15 through Nephi,
Cedar City, and St. George
We'll stop to get some gasoline
and then we're off for more

We're half-way there,
but we've only gone half-way
are those the lights of Vegas?
Yes, we're finally on our way
I wish we were in C-A-L-I-F-O-R-N-A
we can't spell California
but we're there in one more day

We're looking through a windshield
that was cracked by Niki's head
At a lovely desert sunset
that has turned the sky blood-red
We're listening to U2,
can't you tell from what we said?
It's the last tape left to listen to
besides the Talking Heads

I'm glad we're out of Vegas,
bright lights glow behind us now
It's time to make the big ascent,
we'll make it there somehow
We're pulling into Baker
where a cool thing can be found
The world's largest thermometer,
just look at it, wow!

We're almost there,
only three more hours to go
but the miles don't go by faster
when our car is so dang slow
We're in C-A-L-L-I-F-O-R-N-I-E-A
our spelling's getting better
and we'll be there by midday

This road-trip is real hip,
here we go... 

- Summer 1993, Ash Hall/Pye Hirsche