455 Rocket
(written by Gillian Welch and David Rawlings)
Mr. Smith had an Oldsmobile
Baby blue with wire wheels
I took her home the day she was advertised
He said she leaks when it would rain
Sounded like an aeroplane
But I knew she was a jewel in disguise
She had a 455 Rocket
The biggest block alive
I couldn't hardly wait just to take my turn
She was made for the straight-a-ways
She grew up hatin' Chevrolets
She's a Rocket.....she was made to burn
Well, whose junk pile piece of Chevelle is this?
Did you boys come here to race or just kiss?
Hmmm, now don't you wanna know
What I got underneath my hood?
I know she might sound like she's missing
But, buddy she can teach you a lesson
In just a quarter mile and I'll smoke you good
In my 455 Rocket.....the kind the police drive
I couldn't hardly wait just to take my turn
She was made for the straight-a-ways
She grew up hating Chevrolets
She's a Rocket.....she was made to burn
I'm tellin you and I ain't ashamed
I cried when that wrecker came
As we skid I thought I heard the angels sing
Sounded like the Beach Boys
We hit the curb then began to sail
Took out most of the safety rail
Even the cop asked me,
"Man, what'd you have in that thing?"
I had a 455 Rocket
The very kind you drive
You wanna watch yourself when you take that turn
She was made for the straight-a-ways
She grew up hatin' Chevrolets
She's a Rocket.....she was made to burn, burn
'Cause, she's a Rocket.....
She was made to burn