aww....yea      His left elbow, is hanging out the window   His left finger, is sterring the wheel   His right arm is, wrapped around his sweetheart   And it's paradise inside his love mobile   Well i am stuck here, right behind him   I'm held hostage by the dobule yellow line   This sign says 55, he going 30   And it's clear to me that he has no concern for time.      (Chorus)      He's a Sunday, a Sunday driver   He don't want to get his baby home too soon   He's Sunday, a Sunday driver   In the middle of my Thursday afternoon      Oh I will not, a blink my headlight   Oh no I will not honk my horn   Cause i know, I know just what he's feeling   Cause I have been in that sweet, driver's seat before      (Repeat Chorus)      Bridge      There is a growing line of angry cars behind us   It's the center fear of mental a single file   I will not interrupt his romance   Well, i'll be his gaurdian angel for a while      (Repeat Chorus)      Yea in the middle of my Thursday afternoon