Don’t drive to Demore (?) without your seatbelt onn‘Cause there are things that we can’t avoidnLike the ends of our songsnAnd I heard you wrecked our mother’s carnWell I hope that you’re okaynAnd I heard you only got so farnAnd took the bus the rest o’ the waynWell love can make you do some crazy thingsnGotta answer the phone when it ringsnAnd who knows what her birthday bringsn‘Cause I can only call so muchnAnd I can only yell so loudnAnd how I wish that we could touchnI’ll sleep with my arms stretched outnBut love could make me do a crazy thingnLike book my flight, use the credit card schemenLike fly first-class, free drinks and bad dreamsnAnd I’ll watch him help you with your FrenchnAs the season skips the springnAnd he whispers, “I could teach you how to surf,”nAnd I yell, “I know what that means.”nAnd see I, I don’t need any waves crashing down on menAnd love, it can make you say some pretty hurtful thingsnLike, “Don’t fly to France and find your girl gonenBecause you left it up to chance, whatever side it’s on.”n