CHOPPED ‘n DROPPED

Nothing can be as sinister as a Mercury with a chopped top

Lowered way down as if you didn’t know to finally stop

Nineteen forty nine to nineteen fifty one were the good years

To go cruisin’ on Saturday night and sneak in a few beers

Totally dechromed except for a curved Buick side spear

Painted Candy Apple Red with dozens of coats of clear

It looked so glossy deep you wanted to walk inside of it

No need to go fast as you would drag the bottom a bit.

A Buick engine in hiding under the hood spelled guts

Try to race with my lead sled and you would be nuts

She’ll pass you by in the wink of an eye or even a blink

She’s my full radical custom Merc so what’d ya think?

Girls all love her and want to go out for a long ride

Most don’t seem to mind if I slow down and decide

To exchange a few lip locks for a turn around the block

Or consent to take a long bath while wearing a sock.

Built up from a junkyard dog to become this exotic dream

To get me some dates and girl friends was my scheme

The car turned out far better than I had ever expected

And I find on Saturday nights, I’m no longer rejected.

© Spider ‘09