Tripoli Pop Mom

[Verse 1]
C Dutchmen on the dashboard
Sticker peeling in the heat
You’re singing wrong words
Loud and proud
Kids all kicking at the seat
Flip-flops on the gas
You laugh
At every billboard we pass
You say
“Someday you’ll tell this story
About your wild-ass mom and her maps”
[Pre-Chorus]
Plastic crowns from a drive-thru bag
You put one on
Say
“I’m still bad”
I roll my eyes
Hide my smile
You just turn it up and fly
[Chorus]
Tripoli pop mom
Windows down
You drum along
Turn every red light to a stage
Every wrong turn to a song
Tripoli pop mom
Sunburn
Thrift-store prom
You keep this busted car alive
On dollar gas and sing-alongs (oh yeah)
[Verse 2]
You swear we’re “basically abroad”
At some roadside antique barn
You bargain for a cracked snow globe
Call it “art with extra charm”
You say
“Baby
This is culture”
Posing by a plastic palm
I take your picture
Try to frame
The way you make a mess feel calm
[Pre-Chorus]
You miss the exit
Laugh too hard
Say
“Straight lines never go far”
I check the time
Then your face
And let the hour drift away
[Chorus]
Tripoli pop mom
Windows down
You drum along
Turn every red light to a stage
Every wrong turn to a song
Tripoli pop mom
Sunburn
Thrift-store prom
You keep this busted car alive
On dollar gas and sing-alongs
[Bridge]
One day I’ll be the one
Driving some kid through the sun
I’ll say
“Your grandma taught me how
To waste a day and call it love somehow” (hey!)
[Chorus]
Tripoli pop mom
Windows down
I’ll drum along
Hear your laughter in the air
Every time they know the song
Tripoli pop mom
You’re my lucky charm
You built a whole wide world for us
On dollar gas and sing-alongs

pop, Indie pop-rock with jangly guitars, bright synth sprinkles, and tight drums; verses stay punchy and conversational, pre-chorus pulls the tension up, chorus explodes into a chantable hook with stacked gang vocals and handclap accents, male vocals slightly overdriven for an energized, live-band feel