Lyrics:
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One morning while reading the paper
In search of a new set of wheels
The classifieds had a most curious ad
In their listing of automobiles.
I read in suspicious amusement
What seemed like a wild stroke of luck
“Corvette Stingray,” it said, “low mileage, bright red,
“’83 model, 65 bucks.”
I was used to my newspaper’s typos,
Still I called up that number straightway.
“‘Bout that ’83 ‘Vette: have you sold that thing yet?”
She said, “No, you’re my first call today.”
I said, “There’s been some mistake in the paper,
They’ve printed the price wrong somehow.”
“Oh no,” replied she, “they got that from me.”
I said, “Don’t sell that thing, I’m leaving now!”
Bridge:
Her address was in part of the city
Where I’d ventured just one time or two
Where the doctors, bank presidents, and lawyers are residents
And the houses are massive and new.
And as I turned up her half-mile driveway
There in the cool of the day
In the sunlight it gleamed: the car of my dreams
Just $65 away.
The interior was done in white leather
It had a 587 V-8
Gull-wing-span doors, Hurst four on the floor
And the 8-channel tape deck was great.
There was chrome on the chrome on the fenders,
An aerodynamic design
A bar, a TV, and it was boggling to me
That for 65 bucks it was mine.
Now I expected that this woman was crazy
To sell off this car at that price.
But as we walked down the lane she seemed perfectly sane
She was charming and really quite nice.
And she smiled in such great satisfaction
As she handed me title and keys.
I said, “I’ve just got to know why you’ve let this thing go
“What’s wrong with this car? Tell me please!”
Says she, “I’ll be 60 come Tuesday.
And I’ve lived here with my husband, Earl.
Well, after 30 years wed and without a word said
He left me for a young teenage girl.
But with his credit cards left here behind him,
I knew that he couldn’t get far.
Last night from Florida he sent a wire to me:
“Said, ‘I need money, dear, sell the car!'”
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