Car lot Sunday, sun pounding the metal, You stood there with rain still clinging on your door. I was green as July grass, hungry for something sweet, Told my brother: "Let’s take a closer look, maybe just to walk the heat off our feet." All chrome and promises, paint catching every stray sunbeam, The salesman said she was a rare bird, just perfect for a wild dream. Didn’t much care for labels, didn’t care for cash in hand, I was reaching past my own means just to belong to something grand. Hey, do you remember, baby, Those lean, electric nights? When that ride was all I owned And Memphis sang beneath the lights. Every shine ain’t gold— But chrome still blinds. Some loves you hold, Others you outshine. We rolled out, tailfins trailing hope in the breeze, Hound dog on the back seat, last pack of cigarettes between my knees. Laughing in the rearview, mapping highways in your smile, A soundtrack in the static and hearts running wild awhile. Some folks called that shine too bright, said it made fools of men, But I drove that beauty North, let it carry me again and again. Left a piece of myself in every town— Each exit swallowed another song ‘Til I could barely track where I belonged. Every shine ain’t gold— But chrome still blinds. Some loves you hold, Others you outshine. IRS at my shoulder, garage too small for old sins, Bills and faded glory stacked up like recycled tins. You slipped away in the paper haze, just metal on memory’s rack, I wander auction lots at night, but nothing ever brings you back. Now they tell me new rides are smoother, safer, fit for a king, But none of them bear the scars—none of them have your sting. I’d give up the next payday, give up this borrowed track— Darlin’, all I want is that flash of chrome staring back. Every shine ain’t gold— But chrome still blinds. Some loves you hold, Others you outshine.
