Soul HitchHiker - Poor Man's Cadillac

I was sitting in the kitchen of our four-room house waitin' for Bobby to come home
We live at the end of a gravel road with no lights but the one on the stove
I wait tables at the Frisch's, Bobby makes a living pumping gas
He's been out working nights all week, but the filling station ain't open late

Tells me he's working to get us something, but that's been wearing thin
I'd rather know his body in our bed beside me than wonder where he is
So it's Friday night, Carson just went off, and I got the breakfast shift
I hear strange wheels coming up the gravel, and I feel trouble coming in

He said, 'Baby, baby, come out quick, the moon is full and you gotta see this
I traded some work with old man Pete and he gave me his '67 Grand Prix
It's got bucket seats, fender skirts, power everything - and oh, my word
It's got FM stereo, 8-track deck,' They say a Pontiac's a poor man's Cadillac

Last winter my floorboards rusted through, the engine smokes, inspection's due
Radio's broke, I'm lucky if it starts I've scoured every junkyard for used parts
It leaves me walking every time it rains, I lost my last job because I was late
Put her on a flatbed and haul her away 'cuz I'm moving uptown today

He said, 'Baby, baby, come out quick, the moon is full and you gotta see this
I traded some work with old man Pete and he gave me his '67 Grand Prix
It's got bucket seats, fender skirts, power everything - and oh, my word
It's got FM stereo, 8-track deck,' They say a Pontiac's a poor man's Cadillac

So come on baby, let's drive all night, out of the country and into the lights
Let's open her up on the interstate and turn up the volume on our 8-track tapes
I like the way your jeans pull tight across your thighs, I like that distant look in your eyes
You get this smile when your motor's running and y'ain't gotta wait 'cuz you know I'm comin'

He said, 'Baby, baby, come out quick, the moon is full and you gotta see this
I traded some work with old man Pete and he gave me his '67 Grand Prix
It's got bucket seats, fender skirts, power everything - and oh, my word
It's got FM stereo, 8-track deck,' They say a Pontiac's a poor man's Cadillac

Written by:
Karan Andrea

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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