each night the dream began we were sitting here waiting on our coffee cans eyes fixed upon the skies i was thinking of you and if i qualified then when the trumpet blew the reality hit this wasn t pay per view my can lifted up and out til the siren wailed and a megaphone shouted pull that bucket over let me see your registration you ll be questioned at the station by a good cop bad cop if they find you guilty they ll impound your can in hades where the grounded lads and ladies had it good til the last drop i watched the others fly on their coffee cans as they waived goodbye freed from the earthly grind they had escaped the roast i d been identified dream police nowhere to be found i was left choking on the muddy grounds i calmed down and reached for my pez but the head on the dispenser was juan valdez pull that bucket over let me see your registration you ll be questioned at the station by a good cop bad cop if they find you guilty they ll impound your can in hades where the grounded lads and ladies had it good til the last drop tossing in my sleep again the metaphor was wearing thin til my nightmare stretched it even more lord you placed the bitter cup against your lips and drank it up to bring me where you are i can t believe i ve wandered off this far woke up and smeeled the coffee i don t like what caffeine does to me god s got a pull i ve felt first hand i ve gotta stop believeing my coffee can pull that bucket over let me see your registration you ll be questioned at the station by a good cop bad cop if they find you guilty they ll impound your can in hades where the grounded lads and ladies had it good til the last drop bad dream but i understand that you can t get to heaven on a coffee can