Lyrics

              CHEVY IN HEAVEN

             Greg Trafidlo © 2005

Saturday mornings, I'd walk out in my jammies
There'd be my Daddy, with his bucket and his chamois
High-pressure nozzle. A natural sponge
Elbow grease to clean the grunge
Then fortune dealt us all a double whammy

Drove off toward the Auto Zone, he's low on Turtle Wax
That was many years ago, and he never did come back
It ain't the angels bowling, or the hammer of Thor
He's haulin' tail to Gods' Pep Boys store
Every time I hear the thunder crack

    Daddy's washing the Chevy on high
   That car shines like a comet in the sky
   We miss him and his old fifty-seven
   Daddy's washing the Chevy in heaven

With his sacred Simonize he's buffing out the dings
In a spotless robe, where the white dove sings
When storm clouds' form and spring rain falls
He's cleaning tar off the old white walls
And pit marks from his chrome plated wings

   Repeat chorus