Sangtekst: Mott The Hoople. Born Late '58.

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
No chooser, 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, a leader
You're really gotta meet her
You see her, she thrills you
You look at her, she'll kill you

Listen, fella, baby, don't you sell her
Don't you try and steal her away
Hush, man logs in her dam
Think you better fade away

Detonator, jail-baiter
A radar radiator
She'll annoy ya, destroy ya
She'll bring ya down in

Create her, mistreat her
No use tryin' to beat her
Admit it, she's greater
Shame you weren't born later