Wonderland Garage

We were seven miles from Boston but 100,000 miles from OK

In the distance, a mirage

of the Wonderland Garage

You said, "How about we turn around and drive directly into the cold, cold bay?"

I said, "Or how about a massage,

in the Wonderland Garage?"

      You said, "Maybe this trip is when we finally get to really sleep in?"

      I said, "How about we keep driving and how about we never sleep again?"

      (I thought I'd win.)

By then we were seeing "aeroplanes," as people like to call them in another songs.

You made a highway map collage

of the Wonderland Garage

I said, "Why do you think people wear the clothes they wear? And hey wait, I smell gasoline."

Using my words as camouflage

to the Wonderland Garage

      You said, "Maybe this trip has been long enough already for me, babe."

      So I said, "How about we turn around, 'cause wonderland is wherever you lay?"

      And you said "Oh, ok."

When we finally got home, I took my shoes off like I was rode and put away wet.

Does that happen in dressage?

Or in the Wonderland Garage?

So I said, "Baby, I'm so glad that we're home, let's dance like we're seventeen."

You made me a chewing gum corsage.

Who needs the Wonderland Garage?

Your love pours down in a barrage,

and it's never a mirage.

Not in the Wonderland Garage,

in the Wonderland Garage.