I Want My Flying Car

I’m a twenty-first century man
With my twenty-first-century stuff
But my GPS and PCI-Express
Are never gonna be enough
I got a toothbrush that turns the mattress,
Got a phone that’ll walk the cat
My plasma TVs record DVDs
But I don’t care about that
I want my flying car
I want my flying car
I want this two-bit Dodge the hell out of my garage
Hitch my station wagon to a star
I want my flying car
They told us we’d have robots and portable fusion,
Clone our bodies so we wouldn’t stay dead,
But I have to doubt 'cause it didn’t come out
The way Mr. Asimov said.
My coffee brews itself every morning,
My shower cleans itself every night,
But twice a day I’m caught in a traffic knot
I’m growing older at every red light.
I want my flying car
I want my flying car
You know it just ain’t fair, I wanna hit the air
Bid the street life au revoir,
I want my flying car
I want my flying car
If I make a mistake I can use my air brake,
Or grab a phone line with a spar,
I want my flying car
No more waitin' and hatin, and jerks tailgatin'
When I’m levitatin' over the town.
Parking fees wouldn’t matter, I’d drop a rope ladder
Over side and climb right down.
No barrels or cones or construction zones,
No blasting radio in the next lane,
I’d put on a Stetson and make like George Jetson,
If I’ve got a flyin' car, I can get a girl like a
Jane!
… Jane, stop this crazy thing!
A thousand miles to the gallon,
It never rides bumpy or loud,
When the weather gets nasty, I make a real fast Z-
Positive climb through the clouds,
I never worry 'bout signs or signals,
'Cause who’s gonna take me to jail?
Wait, what’s that siren? Is someone else flyin'?
I got pigs on the wing on my tail.
Up in my flying car
I want my flying car
Why stay on the ground when you can drive around
In a Chevrolet Shooting Star?
I want my flying car
I want my flying car
Well, I don’t care how, 'cause I’m ready now,
The future can’t be that far,
I want my flying car.