Switchblade 327
Lit cigarette in his hand
Steel-toed boots
on the accelerator
Oil leakin' outta the pan
Switchblade, three two-barrels
Gettin' there as fast as he can
All juiced up like a hot
carburetor
Spittin' gas onto the fan
Blacktop burnout, Saturday night
Try to catch him if you can
Switchblade 327
Switchblade seven come eleven
Switchblade he's all right
When he gets drunk he fights
all night
<Interlude>
Switchblade 327
Pullin' way ahead of the pack
Chop top deuce, Saturday night
Flames shootin' outta the back
Switchblade, don't cut him off
He won't cut you no slack
He'll cut you to
ribbons if you come to town
carve his name in your back
Blacktop burnout, Saturday night
Try to catch him if you can
Switchblade 327
Switchblade seven come eleven
Switchblade he's all right
When he gets drunk he fights
all night
<Interlude>
Switchblade 327
Someone was calling his name
All he could hear was his engine
And the sound of the pouring
down rain
Switchblade 327
Ran 125 down the lane
someone had cut both
his fuel lines
And the '32 burst into flames
Blacktop burnout, Saturday night
Try to catch him if you can
Switchblade 327
Switchblade, seven come eleven
Switchblade, he's all right
When he gets drunk he fights
all night
Switchblade 327
Switchblade, seven come eleven
Switchblade, he's all right
When he gets drunk he fights
all night
When he gets drunk he fights
all night
When he gets drunk he fights
all night
cked down
and they put you first in line
And so you finally ask yourself
just how big you are
and take your place in a wiser
world of bigger motor cars
<Intelrude>
So Where the hell was Biggles
when you needed him
last Saturday
And where were all the sportsmen
who always pulled you though
They're all resting down
in Cornwall
writing up their memoirs
for a paper-back edition
of the Boy Scout Manual
See there! A man born