Pontiac

E
It's a Pontiac
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It's a '63 Stratochief with a 
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three on the tree
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And it belongs to me
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And my baby
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Her and me
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We go driving down old highway 
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seventeen
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She puts on the radio
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Rolls down the window
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Lays her head back
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It's a Pontiac


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It ain't got no wild horses 
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painted on the side
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And the objects in the mirror are 
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precisely their own size
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It's got a chrome Indian in front of
 the door

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Might be an Apache or an Arapaho
E                               
Or a Pontiac
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[Chorus]
Em
There was an incident last night
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At seventeen and third
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It all happened so fast nobody's 
really sure
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But somebody held the rifle, 
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somebody held the sack
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And as fast as they were there
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Well they were gone just like that
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In a Pontiac
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The anti-freeze is boiling and the
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 oil pressure's low
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And the pedal's to the metal and 
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it's as fast as it can go
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And the stain on her shoulder I 
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getting darker you know
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And the radio keep blasting out the
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 facts
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It's a Pontiac
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