Adam Brand - Dirt Track Cowboys Lyrics
(If this don't turn you on folks, you haven't got a switch. Friday night is speedway night at the national capitol of speed. Sit down and hang on, here come the dirt track cowboys).Strap yourself inHang on for the rideDirts gonna flyGrounds gonna shake tonightYou don't have to look far'Cause it's right here in your back yardThere's a hundred tracks across our landThey call home this fearless band of dirt trackDirt Track cowboysDirt tracking CowboysMudslinging OutlawsThis ain't no Hollywood star warsIt's the real deal open wheelDirt Track cowboysThere ain't nothing likeA big angry fieldTearing down the back straightWheel to wheelHe's got a big V8 underneath that hoodWhen the lights go greenRushy's gonna screamThe wildest boys you ever have seenThey're dirt track, dirt track cowboysDirt tracking CowboysMudslinging OutlawsThis ain't no Hollywood star warsIt's the real deal open wheelDirt Track cowboys(Gary Rush, the living ledgend of sprint car racing, fires his seven hundred horsepower six shooter down the back straight, pushin' the cushion as he chases on the tail of the world series champ, Skip Jackson, Adrian Marr, Brooke Tadnal and Kelly Lenegan, Oooh yeah here come the things with wings. Last lap, here's the boss of the sprint car bull ring, the Bunbury boy, Ron Krikie, making the check on the final corner, Krikie smokes 'em, Oooh yeah, that ones for the boys)Dirt tracking CowboysMudslinging OutlawsThis ain't no Hollywood star warsIt's the real deal open wheelDirt Track cowboysDirt tracking CowboysMudslinging OutlawsThis ain't no Hollywood star warsIt's the real deal open wheelDirt Track cowboysDirt track CowboysDirt track Cowboys
