Bob always tells this story in retrospect
It’s deeper meaning is hard to dissect
Some of the facts might be circumspect
But here’s what Bob would likely interject:

I’ll tell you a tale that’ll blow your mind
I’m driving my jeep, just trying to unwind
I’m at the wheel, driving Garret and Z
I’m not wearing a seatbelt, my spirit free

I think that seatbelts cramp my style
I haven’t worn them in a very long while
Now you may think that they keep you in tact
But I’m telling you - that ain’t a fact

I was driving the band on that fateful trip
A storm lashed out - my jeep lost its grip,
I braked and swerved but my jeep - it flipped
And there were consequences to that backflip trip

Well Garrett broke his ribs all buckled and neat
And z-mans dislocations were no small feat
But i just smiled brushing off the dirt
With a magical landing, not even hurt

I think that seatbelts cramp my style
I haven’t worn them since I was a child
Some of my friends ask me to repent
But i ain’t got no seatbelt lament

Maybe seatbelts cramp your style
And maybe you ain’t worn them in a while
But we’re hopin’ you get the itch
Cuz we think Bob’s a lucky son of a bitch

He’s just lucky
He’s so lucky, yeah (My ribs really hurt!)
He’s just lucky (wear your seatbelt dude!)
He’s just lucky