[Intro: clean guitar, faint steel drums] ... ... ... [Verse 1: half-sung, sneering] Summer of '99, plaid couch on the basement floor Warm forty and a roach clip, I was nineteen and bored Fell asleep to the ballgame with the volume way too loud Remote and half a joint both buried in the couch Woke up at three a.m., the whole house pitch black Just a blue glow on the paneling and Dad's old bowling plaque Then steel drums came rollin' out that big old Zenith screen Like a cruise ship full of bad ideas sailin' straight at me [Pre-Chorus: building] Little black boxes, bleeps on every line One-eight-hundred number scrollin' by "Operators standing by," Daytona sunshine I swear I was lookin' for the remote the whole time [Chorus: full band, belted] Now the girls gone wild all run the PTA Pushin' carts through Costco on a Saturday Could be right behind me at the sample tray And I wouldn't know 'em anyway We all got old and the world moved on Traded spring break for a minivan and a lawn But for a few short years, from midnight till dawn There was a number on that screen I almost dialed Now the girls gone wild... have all gone mild [Verse 2: half-sung, sneering] Right after the knife that could cut clean through a shoe And the home gym in a box that'd build a brand-new you Sippin' Mad Dog 20/20, Banana Red and warm Then the steel drums hit like a tropical storm I heard Mom's slippers squeakin' down the stairs Kicked the bottle under the couch, fanned the smoke out of the air Slammed it to the Weather Channel, "Just checkin' on the radar, Ma" Never cared so much about a cold front over Arkansas [Pre-Chorus: building] Little black boxes, bleeps on every line Same sunburnt beach for the hundredth time "Call in the next ten minutes," on a loop all night And I swear that remote was hidin' from me every time [Chorus: full band, belted] Now the girls gone wild all run the PTA Buyin' bulk at Costco on a Saturday Could be parked right next to me in the carpool lane And I wouldn't know 'em anyway We all got old and the world moved on Traded Cancun for a Crock-Pot and a lawn But for a few short years, from midnight till dawn I had that number on a napkin, never dialed Now the girls gone wild... have all gone mild [Bridge: soft, stripped back] Now I'm out by nine in my own recliner chair Wake up to a screen askin' if I'm still there Only joint I got left is the bad one in my knee And the only forty left is the waist size on my jeans No steel drums, no bleeps, no number on the line Just a blue light on my face and the sound of passin' time [Spoken] But wait... There's more [Guitar Solo] ... ... ... [Instrumental] ... ... [Final Chorus: key change, gang vocals] Now the girls gone wild all run the PTA And the guys yellin' "woo" in the back coach Little League today We could pass in the Costco on a Saturday And we wouldn't know each other anyway We all got old and the world moved on Traded forties for a leaf blower and a lawn But for a few short years, from midnight till dawn I still know that number that I never dialed Now the girls gone wild... have all gone mild And that boy on the couch went mild too [Outro: soft, clean guitar] Plaid couch, basement, blue light on the wall Operators standing by... But nobody calls [Instrumental: steel drums fade] ... [End]
