John Hiatt – Thunderbird lyrics

My Thunderbird, my Thunderbird Put your head on my shoulder Don't say a word We'll cut across town in my Thunderbird There's a burial ground Beneath a cattle herd Mr. Henry Ford's building me a Thunderbird My Thunderbird, my Thunderbird Put your head on my shoulder Don't say a word We'll cut across the country in my Thunderbird We're from Pennsylvania Welsh men of words My daddy drove a Desoto I drive a Thunderbird My Thunderbird, my Thunderbird She's the voice of the future Baby, have you heard Tomorrow's taken wing on my Thunderbird My Thunderbird, my Thunderbird Put your head on my shoulder Don't say a word We'll cut across town in my Thunderbird Got electric windows Tilt away wheel Slide across the bucket seat For that sexy leather feel of My Thunderbird, my Thunderbird Put your head on my shoulder Don't say a word We'll cut across town in my Thunderbird From the old Volkswagen Back to the Model T A lot of men died Just so you could ride with me in My Thunderbird, my Thunderbird She drives like a dream Baby rest assured It don't get any better than a Thunderbird My daddy was a salesman My brother was too I would sell anything Just to try to stay with you But not my Thunderbird No not my Thunderbird Willy Loman's saying something I can't hear a word I'm going too fast in my Thunderbird They make 'em that way Yeah they make 'em that way Well they make 'em that way Yeah they make 'em that way Well they make 'em that way Explain Request ×

Lyrics taken from /lyrics/j/john_hiatt/thunderbird.html