Reflected A photograph looking back to me in a perfect, shiny Chrome Side mirror On a ’58 Buick At a car show in nineteen sixty-three A lifetime later this photo I see Our faces, so young and so happy. {chorus} Young guys, wild in this place Not quite smart wanting to be forever young here at the very start. I see nothing snide— A little pride maybe foolish in our certainty Indeed in our surety That our reflections Would always Gaze back at us recognizable and perpetually the wild young guys we felt ourselves to be {bridge} {chorus} Sure that the chrome Would never rust We’d always look so tough we’d always know and always see All we thought we knew Back in ‘63. {chorus} {chorus}
