Trading Paint

From Roanoke to Talladega
our engines ran faster the one in my old Chevy Vega

I called us the Dream Team
I lived to hear your scream

On my California king we could have run 3 wide
and I could hit 4th gear in my stride

One night I thought I was going to faint
back in the days when we were trading paint

It ended my scheme
when you decided to race with another team

I knew that you hooking up with him wouldn't last
but now those days are now in the past

I still have those old memories
and they are refreshing like a cool summer breeze

I  was no saint back in the days when we were trading paint
I  was no saint back in the days when we were trading paint