[Verse 1] Under the canopy, chrome gets a wink ’46 Merc shudders, primer freckles, fuel pump stink Long hood, skirted rear, glass leaned way back Split bench in the shade, radio stuck on static ’55 Ford Fairlane, dropped close to the ground Dash gone dull, wheel polished down [Instrumental Solo] [Chorus] Merc makes a low roll, chrome catching sun Fenders tucked tight, like it’s already won Flathead keeps tapping, heat in the glass Every mile we stack up, trying to make it last [Instrumental Solo] [Verse 2] Vinyl’s split on the bench and the seats hold heat Palm on the wheel, elbow against the seat County line marker flashes by the dash White fence posts smear as we fly past [Instrumental Solo] [Chorus] Merc makes a low roll, chrome catching sun Fenders tucked tight, like it’s already won Flathead keeps tapping, heat in the glass Every mile we stack up, trying to make it last [Instrumental Solo] [Outro] Yeah, that old Ford’s got a rough-edged purr But the Merc stays mean with a low-slung blur Under that canopy, hood stretched out wide We twist that key and let both motors talk outside [Instrumental Solo]
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