could've used a few pounds
tight pants points hardly renown
she was a black-haired beauty with big dark eyes
and points all her own sitting way up high
out past the cornfields where the woods got heavy
out in the back seat of my '60 chevy
workin' on mysteries without any clues
workin' on our night moves
tryin' to make some front page drive-in news
workin' on our night moves
we weren't searchin' for some pie in the sky summit
we were just young and restless and bored
and we'd steal away every chance we could
to the alley or the trusty woods
we were gettin' our share
workin' on our night moves
tryin' to lose the awkward teenage blues
workin' on our night moves
sweet summertime summertime
and we waited on the thunder
i awoke last night to the sound of thunder
how far off i sat and wondered
started humming a song from 1962
ain't it funny how the night moves
when you just don't seem to have as much to lose
strange how the night moves