Henry's Songbook

This morning as I read my paper
In search of a new set of wheels
My newspaper ahd a most curious ad
In its listing of automobiles

I smiled with suspicious amusement
At what looked like a great stroke of luck
Corvette - it said - low mileage, bright red
Ninety-four model, sixty-five bucks

I'm used to my newspaper's errors
But I called up the number straightway
About the Corvette - have you sold the car yet?
She said, No, you're my first call today

I said, There's been a mistake in the paper
They printed the price wrong somehow
No, they haven't, said she, They got that from me
I said, Don't sell - I'm leaving right now

Her home was in part of the city
Where I'd ventured just one time or two
Where doctors, bank presidents, lawyers were residents
And the houses were massive and huge

As I pulled up the half mile of driveway
There, in the heat of the day
In the sunshine it gleamed, the car of my dreams
Only sixty-five dollars away

The interior was done in red leather
The engine a massive V8
A white cabrio top like new from the shop
And the hi-fi sounded just great

There was chrome od the chrome on the chromium
There was an aerodynamic design
It had a bar, a TV, and - amazing to me
For sixty-five bucks it was mine

I thought that woman was crazy
Selling the car at that price
As we walked down the lane she seemed perfectly sane
She was charming and really quite nice

And she smiled with great satisfaction
As she handed me papers and keys
I said, I've just got to know why you let this thing go
What's wrong with the car, tell me please

She said, I'll be sixty on Tuesday
I've lived here with my husband Earl
After thirty years wed without a word said
He's run off with some silly young girl

But he left his credit cards behind him
So I knew that he wouldn't get far
Last night, from Capri, he faxed this to me
I need money, dear, sell the car

As sung by Iain MacKintosh

See also
John McCutcheon's Homepage for original lyrics