My Mom’s Mini Van

In my mom’s mini van I take the window seat
I sit there so I can look out and see the street
And through my window I can watch the world go by
I love to roll along in my mom’s mini van

Roll along… roll along
We can go anywhere in the
Neighborhood of America
Singing songs we go on
We roll along in my mom’s mini van

In my mom’s mini van we look for license plates
We like to see who can spot ones from out of state
We share this time we’ve got and laugh a really lot
I love to roll along in my mom’s mini van

Roll along… roll along
We can go anywhere with a
Trout Fishing In America
Album on… we go on
We roll along in my mom’s mini van

In my mom’s mini van the evidence reveals
She doesn’t keep both hands upon on the steering wheel
The chocolate ice cream stains forever will remain
There on the driver’s seat of my mom’s mini van

Roll along… roll along
She puts her oldies in
Sometimes we hear John Flynn
Singing songs… we go on
We roll along in my mom’s mini van
(she does the speed limit every time that I’m in it)
Roll along in my mom’s mini van

© 1999 Flying Stone Music