born late '58
mott the hoople
baby took me out last night
got a little cadillac bite. shook me about - inside out
didn't get home 'till light. she's a grower
a goer - you gotta get to know her
a cruiser - you turn around she'll lose you
burned out as the light turned green
smoke-screened off her rail. he didn't see me comin' but he shoulda saw me runnin'
faster than the u.s. mail. she's a speeder
you're really gotta meet her
you look at her she'll kill you. listen
don't you try and steal her away
think you better fade away
jail-baiter - a radar radiator
destroy ya - she'll bring ya down in fire
mistreat her - no use tryin' to beat her
shame you weren't born later.