| Watched him coming upwind, slow
 | 
| Down South Park Boulevard
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| Looking good from tail to hood
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| Great big fins and painted steel
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| Man, it looked just like the Batmobile
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| With my old man behind the wheel
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| Well, you could hardly even see him in all that chrome
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| The man with the plan and a pocket comb
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| But every night it carried home
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| And I could hear him saying
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| Don’t you give me no Buick
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| Girl, you must take my word
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| If there’s a God up in Heaven
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| He’s got a silver Thunderbird
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| You can keep your El Dorado
 | 
| Man, the foreign car’s absurd
 | 
| Me, I wanna go down
 | 
| In a silver Thunderbird
 | 
| Got up every morning while I was still asleep
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| I remember the sound of him shuffling around
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| Right before the crack of dawn
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| Is when I heard him turn his motor on
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| And when I got up they were gone
 | 
| Down the road in the rain and snow
 | 
| The man and his machine would go
 | 
| Oh, the secrets that old car would know
 | 
| Sometimes I hear him saying
 | 
| Don’t you give me no Buick
 | 
| Girl, you must take my word
 | 
| If there’s a God up in Heaven
 | 
| He’s got a silver Thunderbird
 | 
| You can keep your El Dorado
 | 
| Man, the foreign car’s absurd
 | 
| Me, I wanna go down
 | 
| In a silver Thunderbird
 | 
| Down the road in the rain and snow
 | 
| The man and his machine would go
 | 
| Oh, the secrets that old car would know
 | 
| Sometimes I hear him saying
 | 
| Don’t you give me no Buick
 | 
| Girl, you must take my word
 | 
| If there’s a God up in Heaven
 | 
| He’s got a silver Thunderbird
 | 
| You can keep your El Dorado
 | 
| Man, the foreign car’s absurd
 | 
| Me, I wanna go down
 | 
| In a silver Thunderbird
 | 
| Yeah, me, I wanna go down
 | 
| In a silver Thunderbird |