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They got three in the front and four in the back of a Civic |
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Camped out all night on the sidewalk, just to get tickets |
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With their hands on the fence in the back, by the buses and the limousines |
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Just to get a glance at the drummer or a singer, yeah anything |
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And they come from miles around |
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For that moment when the lights go out |
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And they scream |
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It's the girls in the front row singin' |
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It's the boys with the wheels that bring them |
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It's the lighters in the air, and you guys up there |
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You're the heart and soul, and the reason we do what we do |
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Here's to you |
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There's a silver-tongued blonde trying to sweet talk her way backstage |
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There's a mom and dad in the aisle, not acting their age |
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There's a wet Corvette, red lipstick print on a Coors Light cup |
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And judging by the way she's dancing, I'd say she's had enough |
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The guitars come alive |
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And you make us want to stay all night |
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And they scream |
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It's the girls in the front row singing |
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It's the boys with the wheels that bring them |
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It's the lighters in the air, and you guys up there |
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You're the heart and soul, and the reason we do what we do |
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Here's to you, here's to you |
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It's the girls in the front row singing |
|
It's the boys with the wheels that bring them |
|
It's lighters in the air, and you guys up there |
|
You're the heart and soul, and the reason we do what we do |
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Here's to you, here's to you |
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The girls in the front row singing, here's to you |
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It's the boys with the wheels that bring them, here's to you |
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It's to a silver-tongued blonde trying to sweet talk her way |
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Here's to you, here's to you |
