It
was in the late 1920s that Sam McGee of the Grand Ole Opry,
accompanying himself on an instrument called the banjo-guitar,
recorded a song he had learned from a Nashville mechanic. It
was called Chevrolet Car, and Sam hoped the
Shiv-uh-lay company would buy it. They didn't.
But you can hear it here.
|
Well,
I have a little car, and-a it's a Chevrolet.
It
is better than a Dodge or a Ford coupé.
I
would swear my name to this good fact:
She's
the next car now to a Cadillac.
I love my baby, but crazy 'bout my Chevrolet.
I
got in my car one Sunday morn;
I
stepped on the starter and I blowed the horn.
I
pulled down the spark and I give her the gas;
Said,
"Look out, boys, and let me pass!"
I love my baby, but crazy 'bout my Chevrolet.
Now
I give the Chevrolet a whole lot o' praise.
She
burns up the gas without a blaze;
She
will make thirty miles on a gallon of gas.
So
the Chevrolet car is the best at last.
I love my baby, but crazy 'bout my Chevrolet. |
The
Chevrolet car is all OK.
The
Chevrolet car is taking the day.
When
your hair turns gray and your head gets bald,
You
will see the Chevrolet will beat them all.
I love my baby, but crazy 'bout my Chevrolet.
The
Chevrolet car she is so keen,
The
prettiest little car that I ever did see.
She
is worth her weight in silver or gold.
She's
the best little car that's ever been sold.
I love my baby, but crazy 'bout my Chevrolet.
If
you want to win a sweetie, I will tell you what to do:
Just
drive your Chevver down Fifth Avenue.
Well,
the Chevrolet motor, she hums like a bee.
You
can have the other car but let my Chevver be!
I love my baby, but crazy 'bout my Chevrolet. |