Gas Hog Lincoln

by Lee A. Hart

My Daddy said, "Son, you're gonna drive me to drinkin'
If you don't stop driving that gas hog Lincoln."

It was Saturday night, I had time to kill,
And decided to give my girl a thrill.
Pappy had to work, which got me to thinkin',
So I sorta borrowed my old man's Lincoln.

It was long and low, all chrome and black.
Had a special garage for it out in the back.
He'd polish it and wax it on sunny weekends,
And occasionally go for a ride with his friends.

It had about the biggest motor left in the nation,
For passing everything except a filling station.
We headed out a'cruising into the night,
Blowing off this modern junk at every light.

An old blue Datsun off of Glisan street,
His stereo a thumpin' like he couldn't be beat.
I decided it was time to let the Lincoln unwind.
With a wink and a nod, I gave him the sign.

When the light turned green we both hit the gas.
Well I took the lead, but he took it back fast.
My honey said, "You brag about this dinosaur",
"But you just got beat by an electric car!"

I tell her, "No way that one could be that fast.
"Juice like that has gotta come from gas."
But the yellow LeCar sitting at the next light
Has an "EV" sticker; now I'll prove that I'm right.

When the light turned green, no sound, no smoke.
Man, that cat was gone, and that ain't no joke.
I said, "Now, that's a wonder to me."
By then his tail lights were all we could see.

Now here's somebody I can beat, I know.
A grey-haired Grandpa in an old Renault.
But at the next stop he yells for all to hear,
"What's the matter son, stuck in second gear?"

Then a Citicar tried to leave me behind.
Here's a chance to give him a piece of my mind.
I knew I could catch 'em, and was sure I could pass,
But the engine just died; man, I'm outta gas!

My honey had to push me in to a station,
Swearin' she'd warn every girl in the nation.
I figured that I'm never seeing her again,
So I told her I was broke, and borrowed a ten.

When we hit the road, I'm a goin' for bust.
Ain't no golf cart leavin' me in the dust.
So when that white Datsun caught my eye,
I tell the old Lincoln, man, it's do or die.

We burned up the freeway, and down that hill,
Passing cars like they was standing still.
The speedometer said that we had hit top end.
The last number on it was a hundred and ten.

Steam started coming out from under the hood.
The motor's making noises that it never should.
I'm worrying the engine isn't gonna last,
When suddenly the Datsun just lets us past.

I looked in the mirror; red lights was a'blinkin'.
The cops was after my old man's Lincoln.
I pulled it on over and things got dire,
When the catal'ic converter set the grass on fire.

They impounded the car, and threw me in jail.
Had to call my pappy to post my bail.
My daddy said, "Son, you're gonna drive me to drinkin',
If you don't stop driving that Gas... Hog... Lincoln!"


This is based on the 1950's song "Hot Rod Lincoln" by Charlie Ryan. It was about a teenager's exploits with his rickety hot rod built with a big Lincoln motor.

My version features real people and their EVs from the EV Discussion List. The blue Datsun is John Wayland's "Blue Meany", and the White Datsun is his "White Zombie" racing EV. The yellow LeCar was "Screaming Yellow Zonker", and the "grandpa in the old Renault" was Dick Finley.

A poem by Lee A. Hart, © 1984-2019 by Lee A. Hart. Created 3/6/2012. Last updated 3/2/2019.
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