| Mr. Smith had an oldsmobile
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| Baby blue with them wire wheels
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| I took her home the day that she was advertised
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| He said she leaked when, it would rain
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| And sounded like an aeroplane
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| But I knew she was a jewel in disguise
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| She had a 455 Rocket
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| The biggest block alive
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| I couldn’t hardly wait just to take my turn
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| She was made for the straight aways
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| She grew up hating Chevrolets
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| She’s a Rocket, she was made to burn
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| Whose junkpile piece of Chevelle is this?
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| You boys come here to race or just kiss?
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| Don’t you wanna know what I got underneath my hood?
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| I know she might sound like she’s missing
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| But buddy, she could teach you a lesson
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| In just a quarter mile, and I’ll smoke you good
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| In my 455 Rocket
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| The kind the police drive
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| I couldn’t hardly wait just to take my turn
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| She was made for the straight aways
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| She grew up hating Chevrolets
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| She’s a Rocket, she was made to burn
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| It curved, then began to sail
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| Took out most of the safety rail
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| As we skid I thought I heard the angels sing
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| I’m telling you, I ain’t ashamed
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| I cried when that wrecker came
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| Even the cop asked me «Man, what’d you have in that thing?»
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| I had a 455 Rocket
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| The very kind you drive
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| You oughta watch yourself when you take that turn
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| 'Cause she was made for the straight aways
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| She grew up hating Chevrolets
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| She’s a Rocket, she was made to burn
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| Lord, she’s a Rocket she was made to burn |