Words and Music by
DYLAN HICHENS, TIM SMITH AND SIMON VAN WYK

Sitting in traffic gives me time to dream
about owning a vehicle that’s both fast and clean
But my aircon is broken and there’re holes in my floor
and I shouldn’t have to enter through the passenger door

Driving in my car always builds up my inner rage
I feel just like the Hulk, but in a mobile metal cage
It’s almost like the motorists that drive in front of me
were not paying attention when they learn’t K53

The way that people drive these days just makes me want to kill
Since when is stopping at red lights a thing that’s optional?
My stress levels are rising and my face is turning red
I need to change my ways and find another car instead

I’d rather be a taxi driver and follow my new code
of never having to obey the rules of any road
I’d rather be a taxi driver where everywhere’s your lane
I’ll cut you off then mount the curb without a hint of shame

You wouldn’t need a GPS to tell you where to go
‘cause you’ll always have a gaatjie shouting out of your window
And you’d never have to turn down anybody for a lift
‘cause so long as half of their body’s in, it is a perfect fit

And if your steering wheel has fallen off in some curious manner
instead of fitting a new one you could use an old spanner
It must be fun not using indicators or head lights
and stopping without warning to give everyone a fright

On second thoughts this may not be the perfect substitution
there could be taxi violence so here’s my solution

I’d rather be a train driver and work for Metrorail
There’re only two directions so it would be hard to fail
I’d rather be a train driver, getting paid to make you late
I might keep breaking down but all the petrol saved is great

My friends might judge me if they hear of this new job of mine
So if they ask I’ll say my occupation is ‘on line’
But cable theft might make commuting very hard to bear
So maybe I‘ll be better off by travelling in the air

I’d rather be an airline pilot, it’s my final desire
the only danger is when someone sets themselves on fire
I’d rather be an airline pilot, savouring each shooting star
‘cause when the airline finally liquidates I’m back to my old car