You're driving late at night. The radio is just static until a familiar, crunchy guitar riff cuts through. Then comes that voice—distinctly 90s, slightly nasal, and incredibly earnest—asking a question that feels way too heavy for a pop-rock song. Tell me all your thoughts on God, the lyrics go, and suddenly you aren't just listening to a hit from 1996 anymore. You're thinking about the universe.
Dishwalla probably didn't know they were creating a permanent fixture of adult contemporary radio when they recorded "Counting Blue Cars." It’s one of those tracks that everyone knows the words to, even if they can't remember the band's name. But it's the specific phrasing of those lyrics—tell me all your thoughts on God—that keeps the song from being just another piece of "post-grunge" nostalgia. It’s a song about a kid, a conversation, and the realization that maybe we’ve been looking at the big questions all wrong.
The story behind the lyrics tell me all your thoughts on God
Most people assume the song is a direct theological debate. It isn't. Not exactly. J.R. Richards, the lead singer and songwriter, has talked about how the inspiration actually came from a conversation with a child. There’s something about the way kids approach the infinite that makes adults feel small. They don't have the baggage. They don't have the dogma. They just want to know.
The lyrics describe a walk. "We said 'hello' to the man on the corner, as he set his sights on the sun." That’s a heavy image right out of the gate. It sets a scene of searching. When the chorus hits with the line tell me all your thoughts on God, it isn't a demand for a sermon. It's an invitation to share a perspective. And then, the kicker that made the song a lightning rod for controversy in some circles: "'Cause I'd really like to meet her."
Why the gender of God mattered in 1996
Using "her" was a massive deal back then. You have to remember the context of the mid-90s music scene. We were coming out of the cynical shadows of Nirvana and heading into the polished pop of the late 90s. Dishwalla sat right in the middle. By referring to God as "she," Richards wasn't necessarily trying to make a radical feminist statement, though many took it that way.
He was challenging the rigid, bearded-man-in-the-sky archetype.
It was about accessibility. It was about the idea that if God is everything, then God is also feminine. It’s funny looking back. Today, that lyric might barely cause a ripple on social media, but in 1996, it got the song banned from some stations and analyzed to death by youth group leaders across the country.
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The "Counting Blue Cars" mystery
Why blue cars? Why not red ones? Or clouds?
The title itself, "Counting Blue Cars," barely appears in the lyrics, yet it defines the song's identity. It represents the mundane. While the narrator is grappling with the divine and the infinite, there’s this grounding activity of counting cars. It's a classic songwriting trope—juxtaposing the massive with the minuscule.
"Ten feet to go, tell me her name."
The countdown in the song creates a sense of urgency. We are moving toward something. Is it a destination? A realization? Or just the end of the walk? The song doesn't actually give you an answer, which is why it works. It leaves you hanging on that final "tell me all your thoughts on God."
A technical look at the song's impact
Musically, the song is a masterclass in mid-90s dynamics. It starts with that clean, chorus-drenched guitar and builds into a distorted, anthemic chorus. This was the formula of the era, perfected by bands like Matchbox Twenty or The Wallflowers. But Dishwalla had a slightly darker, more atmospheric edge.
- Release Date: 1996
- Album: Pet Your Friends
- Chart Position: Topped the Billboard Modern Rock Tracks and Mainstream Rock Tracks charts.
- Awards: Won a Billboard Music Award for Rock Track of the Year in 1997.
The production by Phil Nicolo gave it a polished but "live" feel. It didn't sound manufactured. It sounded like five guys in a room trying to figure out the meaning of life through a Marshall stack. Honestly, that’s why it has stayed on recurrent radio playlists for thirty years. It feels human.
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Misconceptions about the band and the message
People love to label Dishwalla a "one-hit wonder."
That’s kinda unfair. While "Counting Blue Cars" was undeniably their biggest moment, the band had a solid run. They appeared on soundtracks for movies like Empire Records and The Avengers. They were part of the fabric of that decade's alternative sound.
Another big misconception is that the song is "anti-religious." If you actually sit with the lyrics, it’s the opposite. It’s a song about seeking. It’s about the desire to "meet" the divine. It’s a spiritual song that rejects religious labels. That distinction is important. It captures the "Spiritual but not Religious" (SBNR) movement before that was even a common term.
Why we are still searching for those lyrics
In an era of 15-second TikTok sounds, a four-minute mid-tempo rock song about God feels like a relic. Yet, the search volume for lyrics tell me all your thoughts on God remains remarkably consistent.
We live in a loud world. Most of our "thoughts on God" or the universe are now filtered through political lenses or aggressive debates. There’s something refreshing about the simplicity of the song’s request. It asks for "all" your thoughts, not just the ones that fit a specific narrative.
It’s about curiosity.
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The song reminds us of a time when pop culture was allowed to be a little bit "deep" without being pretentious. It was okay to ask the big questions over a catchy melody.
How to listen to the song today
If you want to really appreciate the track, don't just put it on a generic "90s Hits" playlist while you're cleaning the house.
Try this:
Put on a good pair of headphones. Listen to the bass line—it's surprisingly melodic and carries more of the song than you'd expect. Notice how the drums open up in the second verse. But mostly, listen to the space between the words.
There is a tension in the silence of that track.
It’s the sound of someone waiting for an answer that may never come. And honestly, isn't that what the human experience is basically about? We’re all just walking down the street, counting blue cars, hoping someone will finally tell us what they think about the big stuff.
Actionable Takeaways for the Curious Listener
If the song has been stuck in your head, there are a few things you can do to dive deeper into that specific era and vibe:
- Check out the rest of "Pet Your Friends": Songs like "Charlie Brown's Parents" show a different, funkier side of the band that didn't get as much radio play.
- Explore the "Post-Grunge" spiritual wave: Look at songs like "The Freshmen" by The Verve Pipe or "Shine" by Collective Soul. There was a specific window in the mid-90s where rock music was obsessed with redemption and searching.
- Read the interview archives: Seek out J.R. Richards' later interviews where he discusses the longevity of the track. He has a very grounded view of how a single song can define a career.
- Listen for the "Her": Next time you hear it on the radio, notice if the station uses the original edit or a radio edit. The persistence of that "her" is a fascinating case study in how a single syllable can change the entire weight of a lyric.
The song doesn't provide a map. It just provides a destination that’s "ten feet" away. Sometimes, the search is more interesting than the discovery anyway. Keep counting those cars.