HOT ROD RACE (written by George Wilson) Arkie Shibley & His Mountain Dew Boys - 1950 Now me and my wife and my brother Joe, took off in my Ford from San Pedro. We hadn't much gas 'n' the tires was low, but the doggone Ford could really go. Now along about the middle of the night, we were rippin' along like white folks might, when a Mercury behind he blinked his lights, and he honked his horn and he flew outside. We had twin pipes and a Columbia butt, you people may think that I'm in a rut, but to you folks who don't dig the jive, that's two carburetors and an overdrive. We made grease spots outta many good town, and left the cops heads spinnin' round 'n' round. They wouldn't chase, they'd run and hide, but me and that Mercury stayed side by side. Now we were Ford men and we likely knew, that we would race until somethin' blew, and we thought it over, now, wouldn't you? I looked down at my lovely bride, her face was blue, I thought she'd died. We left streaks through towns about forty feet wide, but me and that Mercury stayed side by side. My brother was pale, he said he was sick, he said he was just a nervous wreck. But why should I worry, for what the heck, me and that Mercury was still neck-and-neck. Now on through the deserts we did glide, a-flyin' low and a-flyin' wide, me an' that Mercury was a-takin' a ride, and we stayed exactly side by side. Now I looked in my mirror and I saw somethin' comin', I thought it was a plane by the way it was a-runnin'. It was a-hummin' along at a terrible pace, and I knew right then it was the end of the race. When it flew by us, I turned the other way, the guy in the Mercury had nothin' to say, for it was a kid, in a hopped up Model-A. ***** HOT ROD RACE #2 (written by Arkie Shibley / Leon Kelley / Jackie Hayes (Hays)) Arkie Shibley & The Mountain Dew Boys - 1951 Now me and my wife and my brother Joe, are back home safe in San Pedro. My tires are wore out 'n' my gas is low, and my doggone Ford'll just barely go. My twin pipes are busted, I'm really in a rut, one carburetors a'leakin and the other one's stuck, my overdrive's slippin, it won't stand the pace, my oil she's a drippin' outta the busted crankcase. The top is tore 'n' it shore does leak, 'n' the springs are stickin' up through the seat. The wind blew in and chilled my bride, but me and that Mercury stayed side by side. Now she rattles and smokes like an old diesel truck, I made it home though, I guess it was luck, 'cause my bearings were busted, my radiator too, and my fan belt was broke 'bout half in two. My brother's still pale 'n' my wife's still sick, my old Ford's nothin' but a wreck, but I don't worry for what the heck, Me and that Mercury stayed neck-and-neck. A Ford's a good car, and mighty fast too, but this one is shot 'n' there's nothin' ta do, so I thought it over and here's what I'll do, I'm gonna trade it off, now wouldn't you? The guy that gets it, he's gonna be sore, an' he won't like me any more, but why should I worry, for what the heck, me and that Mercury stayed neck-and-neck. But we had a good race 'n' I'll remember the day, that me and that Mercury went out to play, an' there's one more thing I'd like to say, don't try to beat a kid in a hopped-up Model-A. ***** ARKIE MEETS THE JUDGE (HOT ROD RACE #3) (written by Arkie Shibley / Leon Kelley / Jackie Hayes) Arkie Shibley - 1951 Now me and my wife and my brother Joe, were home asleep in San Pedro, when the doorbell ring & I run to the door, there stood a cop, and he sure was sore. "You're under arrest, you're goin' to the klink, for wreckless drivin' and raisin' such a stink. So grab your hat and hurry, too, the judge wants to have a little talk with you." He put me in the wagon and locked the door, I thought I'd never see my wife no more. The cops finally got me but what the heck, me and the Mercury stayed neck-and-neck. We got to the station and he took me inside, the cop he told me it was the end of the ride. We went down the hall and opened the door, and there was the judge in the middle of the floor. He took my driver license and all my money too, and said "six months I'm a-givin' to you." But I don't care, but what the heck, me and that Mercury stayed neck-and-neck. Now I'm a-sittin' in my cell, all broken-hearted, and the six-months has barely started. But I'm not the only one that's feelin blue, 'cause the guy that drove the Mercury is in here too. The cops is still looking both night and day, for the kid in the hopped-up Model-A. They say they'll catch him but I don't think its so, 'cause that Model-A can fairly go. Now I'll be outta here in some of these days, 'n' I'll hunt the kid in the Model-A. And he'll be the one that'll hafta pray, 'cause I'm gonna get me a hopped-up Model-A. ***** HOT ROD RACE #4 (THE GUY IN THE MERCURY) (written by George Wilson) Arkie Shibley - 1951 You've heard'a the guy an' his brother Joe, who took off in their Ford from San Pedro, an' how they raced through deserts wide, with a Mercury that stayed right by their side. Now I'm the guy who was in that Merc, an' I'm callin' myself all kind of a jerk, for ever tryin' that kind've a race, I might have known I'd lose my face. But the road was straight 'n' the road was wide, 'n' me 'n' that Ford stayed side by side. I stuck to him through thick an' thin, but I knew all the time I's riskin' my skin. When the hopped-up Model-A blew a'past, I wondered then how long it would last, but I didn't have too long to wait, to see what would happen, to learn my fate. The cop's heads, who spun in fright, got on their bikes an' took to flight. They came up behind me with a siren blast, I knew right then my fun had passed. The guy in the Ford kept racin' on, he was tryin' to catch that son-of-a-gun, who was drivin' that hot rod Model-A, but I didn't have a thing to say. Now I'm sittin' here alone in the klink, with plenty of time to wonder and think. I pace the floor, I frume an' fret, I don't even have a cigarette. Oh, why did I ever get in that race, to end up here in this awful place? Should have had more sense, is all I can say, don't ever race with a kid in a hopped-up Model-A. ***** HOT ROD RACE #5 (THE KID IN THE MODEL-A) (written by Arkie Shibley) Arkie Shibley - 1951 I'm just the kid from the hot rod race, the one that the cops wouldn't even chase. I didn't think they'd get so hot, I's just drivin' along in my hopped-up pot. When I saw two cars on the road ahead, a-racin' like mad, to myself I said, "I'll have some fun an' pass 'em by far, they think they're so hot in their brand new cars". I let her out a little bit more, I pushed the foot clean to the floor. "I'll show those guys who's in top place, I'll really give 'em a hot rod race. I bent a little further over the wheel, and felt the floorboard beneath my heel. I heard the sudden roar of my old exhaust pipe, I knew right then the race they'd fight. I rolled up behind 'em an' give 'em a blast, to let 'em know I's about to pass, but they didn't budge, and their wild, mad ride, they stayed ahead an' was side-by-side. So I took to the ditch to get by the flight, I scattered sand to the left and sand to the right. It didn't even slow their speed, my Model-A has what I need. Now I passed up the guys in that race, I've got us back to a normal pace. I got her by without a spill, whoa, boy, it was quite a thrill. If ya ever get mad at a hot rod kid, remember the things that once't you did, when you were young, carefree and gay, and had a hopped-up Model-A. ***** HOT ROD RACE NAVY STYLE (written by Roger Woodward) Mick Woodward - 1955 Well me and my buddy, ol' Swabby Joe, took off in a can from ol' Sassbo. The chow was poor 'n' the fuel was low, but the doggone can could really go. Along about in the middle of the night, we were steamin' along like a tin can might, when a cruiser behind us blinked her lights, blew her whistle and pulled to the right. Well we had twin screws on our old can, which makes you think that we're in a jam, but f'you swabs who don't get this kinda jive, we had six boilers with overdrive. Now we're tin can men, and we likely knew, that we'd race all night, 'less somethin blew. The stern was down from the turn of the screws, as on through the waves we flew and flew. Our exec was pale, he said he was sick, but us tin can men knew he was just a hick. Why should we worry, what the heck, that cruiser 'n' us were still neck-and-neck. Yes on through the ocean we did glide, a'flyin' low with the throttle wide. Our skipper screamed and the crew they cried, but the doggone cruiser was still right beside. Well we looked over the fantail, where sumpin' was a comin' we thought it was a jet by the way it was a hummin'. It was a'comin' along at a terrible pace, and we knew right then was the end of this race. As it steamed passed us we looked the other way, and the cruiser's crew, they had nothin' to say. For there goin' by was a reserve JG, pushin' a hopped-up LST. ***** HOT ROD BOOGIE (written by Dorse Lewis) Dorse Lewis (mid-'50s) Rock It Boys! Now I went to the junk yard the other day, Justta take a load a scrap iron away. Now I got off to a pretty good start, when I traded my junk for some used car parts. I took 'em home and I never stopped 'n' I put 'em together, and here's what I've got, (setta dice...shake, rattle and roll, roll 'er boys) Now, the cab and chassis of a model-A, and the springs and shackels of a Chevrolet. A Mercury motor and a Dodge rear end, and the fenders off an old Terraplane. Fuel pump off a GMC and the windshield off an ol' Model-T. Two big axles, one-a them dead, off a Studebaker 'n' a President (split axles makes it boogie). Now, it's got a Crosley tire and a Cadillac tube, a Buick carbureter and a Henry J hood (all parts interchange). Plymouth radiator and Chrysler lights, 'n' a generator off an old Willys Knight. The gearshift up on the steering wheel, and the emergency off an Olds-O-Mobile, a Rocket 88 (rock it boys). Now it's got the Kaiser looks 'n' the Frazer shape, a Pontiac horn 'n' Packard licence plates (violatin'). When I flunged it together I had a lot of fun, everybody asked me, "do you think that'll run?" Well I got it to run and I started to town, and a motorcycle cop aimed to chase me down. I knew he's close't, I could see in the mirror, I said "heck, bud, I'm still in second gear." So I give it the gas, 'n' with m'double clutch, and I left him not a-makin' much (about a hunderd and four). When the speedometer hit a hunderd and five, I felt it drop into overdrive, and then it started viberatin', shimmyin' 'n' goin' inta the boogie. Now its top speed I'd hate to try to tell, because I think it's faster'n jet propelled. Don't ask me to buy 'cause I won't sell my Hot Rod, but if you want to take a ride just drop me a line, If you got the money honey, I've got the time (we'll go hotroddin'). ***** HOT ROD LINCOLN (written by Charlie Ryan / W.S. Stevenson) Well you've heard the story of the hot-rod race that fatal day, when the Ford and the Mercury went out to play. This is the inside story I'm here to say, I was the kid that was a-drivin' that Model-A. It's got a Lincoln motor and it's really souped up, and that Model-A body makes it look like a pup. It's got twelve cylinders, and uses them all, with an overdrive that just won't stall. It's got a four-barrel carb and dual exhaust, 4-11 gears, she can really get lost. Got safety tubes and I'm not scared, the brakes are good and the tires are fair. We left San Pedro late one night, the moon and the stars were shining bright, everything went fine up the Grapevine hill, we was passin' cars like they was standin' still. Then all of a sudden, like a flick of an eye, a Cadillac sedan had passed us by. The remark was made "there's the car for me," but by then the taillights were all you could see. Well the fellers ribbed me for bein' behind, so I started to make that Lincoln unwind. I took my foot off the gas and man alive, I shoved it down into overdrive. Well I wound it up to a hundred and ten, twisted the speedometer cable off the end. I had my foot keyed clear to the floor, said "that's all there is, there ain't no more." I went around a corner and I passed a truck, I whispered a prayer, just for luck. The fenders was clickin' a guardrail post the guys beside me were white as a ghost. I guess they'd thought I'd lost my sense, the telephone poles looked like a picket fence. They said "slow down, I see spots," the lines on the road just looked like dots. Smoke was rollin' outta the back, when I started to gain on that Cadillac. I knew I could catch him, and hoped I could pass, But when I did, I'd be short on gas. We went around a corner with the tires on the side, you could feel the tension, man what a ride! I said "hold on, I got a license to fly," and the Cadillac pulled over and let me go by. Then all of a-sudden, the rods started knockin', when down in the dip, she started a-rockin'. I looked in my mirror 'n' red lights was blinkin'. The cops was after my hot rod Lincoln. Well, they arrested me, and put me in jail. I called my pop to go my bail. He said "son, you're gonna drive me to drinkin' if you don't stop drivin' that hot rod Lincoln." ***** HOT ROD LINCOLN (written by Charlie Ryan / W.S. Stevenson) Johnny Bond - 1960 Now you've heard the story of the hot-rod race, where the Ford and the Mercury was settin' the pace. That story is true, I'm here to say, 'cause I was a-drivin' that Model-A. Got a Lincoln motor and it's really souped up, and that Model-A body makes it look like a pup. Got eight cylinders, 'n uses them all, 'n overdrive that just won't stall. Got a four-barrel carb and dual exhaust, 4-11 gears, it can really get lost. Got safety tubes and I'm not scared, the brakes are good and the tires are fair. We left San Pedro late one night, the moon and the stars was shining bright, everything went fine up the Grapevine hill, we was passin' cars like they was standin' still. All of a sudden, like the flick of an eye, a Cadillac sedan had passed us by. The remark was made "there's the car for me," but by then the taillight was all you could see. Well the fellers ribbed me for bein' behind, so I thought I'd make that old Lincoln unwind. took my foot off the gas and man alive, I shoved it down into overdrive. Wound it up to a hundred and ten, twisted the speedometer cable off the end. I had my foot keyed clear to the floor, said "that's all there is, there ain't no more." Went around a corner and I passed a truck, crossed my fingers, just for luck. The fenders clickin' a guardrail post 'n guys beside me, white as a ghost. I guess they'd thought I'd lost my sense, the telephone poles looked like a picket fence. Said "slow down, I see spots," the lines on the road they looked like dots. Smoke was rollin' outta the back, when I started to gain on that Cadillac. I knew I could catch him, and hoped I could pass, But when I did, I'd be outta gas. Went around a corner, the tires on the side, you could feel the tension, man what a ride! I said "hold on, I got a license to fly," and the Cadillac pulled over and let me by. All of a-sudden, the rods started knockin', down in the dip, it started ta-rockin'. I looked in the mirror, the red lights was blinkin'. The cops was after my hot rod Lincoln. They arrested me, and put me in jail, I called my pop to go my bail. He said "son, you're gonna drive me to drinkin' if you don't stop drivin' that hot rod Lincoln." ***** HOT ROD RACE (written by George Wilson) Bob Williams - 1960 Now me and my wife and my brother Joe, took off in my Ford from San Pedro. We hadn't much gas, the tires was low, but that old Ford could really go. It was somewhere along about the middle of the night, we were rippin' along like white folks might, when a Mercury behind began to blink his lights, he honked his horn and he blew outta sight. He had twin pots and a Columbia clutch, 'n speed that no other car could touch, an' to you folks who don't dig the jive, that's two carburetors and an overdrive. We made grease spots outta many good town, and left the cops runnin' round 'n' round. They wouldn't chase, they'd run and hide, but me and that Mercury stayed side-by-side. Now we were Ford men and we both knew, that we would race 'til somethin' blew, my car shook and the engine cried, but me and that Mercury stayed side-by-side. My brother was pale, he said he was sick, to me he looked like a nervous wreck. But why should I worry, and what the heck, me and that Mercury was neck to neck. Now out on the desert we did glide, a-flyin' along and a-flyin' wide, me an' that Mercury was a-takin' a ride, and stayin' exactly side-by-side. I looked through the mirror and I saw somethin' comin', I thought it was a plane from the way it was a-hummin', it was a-hummin' along at a terrible pace, and I knew right then it's the end of the race. When it flew by I turned the other way, and the guy in the Mercury had nothin' to say, for passin' us up as it went our way was a kid in a hopped up Model-A. ***** HOT ROD RACE (written by George Wilson) Charlie Ryan - 1961 Now me and my wife and my brother Joe, took off in my Ford from San Pedro. We hadn't much gas, the tires were low, that dag-blamed Ford could fairly go. Now along about the middle of the night, we were rippin' along like nice folks might, when a Mercury behind me blinked his lights, he honked his horn and he flew outside. We had twin pipes and a Columbia butt, you people may think that I'm in a rut, but to you folks who don't dig the jive, that's two carburetors and an overdrive. We made grease spots outta many good towns, and left the cops heads spinnin' round 'n' round. They wouldn't chase, they'd run and hide, but me and that Mercury stayed side-by-side. Now we were Ford men and we likely knew, that we would race until somethin' blew, my foot feet was down, like they're stuck with glue, through many the town, we flew and flew. I looked down at my lovely bride, her face was blue, I thought she'd died, left streaks through town 'bout forty feet wide, but me and that Mercury stayed side-by-side. My brother was pale, he said he was sick, he said he was just a nervous wreck. But why should I worry, for what the heck, me and that Mercury was still neck t' neck. Now on through the deserts we did glide, a-flyin' low and a-flyin' wide, me an' that Mercury was a-takin' a ride, and we stayed exactly side-by-side. I looked at my mirror and I saw somethin' comin', an' I thought it was a plane by the way it was a-runnin', hummin' along at a terrible pace, and I knew right then it was the end of the race. When it flew by us, I turned the other way, 'n the guy in the Mercury had nothin' to say, it was nothin' but kid, he was wantin' to play, he was drivin' a hopped up Model-A. ***** HOT ROD LINCOLN (written by Charlie Ryan / W.S. Stevenson) Commander Cody & The Lost Planet Airmen - 1972 My pappy said "Son, you're gonna drive me to drinkin', if you don't stop drivin' that Hot Rod Lincoln." Have you heard the story of the hot rod race, where the Fords 'n' Lincolns was settin' the pace? That story is true, I'm here to say, that I was drivin' that Model-A. It's got a Lincoln motor and it's really souped up, that Model-A body makes it look like a pup. It's got eight cylinders and uses 'em all, got overdrive, just won't stall. With a four-barrel carb and a dual exhaust, with 4-11 gears you can really get lost. Got safety tubes but I ain't scared, the brakes are good, tires fair. Pulled outta San Pedro late one night, the moon 'n' the stars was shinin' bright. We was drivin' up Grapevine hill, passin' cars like they was standin' still. All of a sudden in the wink of an eye, Cadillac sedan passed us by. I said "Boys that's the mark for me," by then the tailight was all you could see. Now the fellas ribbed me for bein' behind, so I thought I'd make the Lincoln unwind. Took my foot off the gas'n'man alive, I shoved it on down into overdrive. Wound it up to a hunderd an' ten, my speedometer said that I hit top end. My foot was glued like lead to the floor, that's all there is an' there ain't no more. Now the boys all thought I'd lost my sense, them telephone poles looked like a picket fence. They said "slow down, I see spots," the lines on the road just looked like dots. Took a corner'n'side-swiped a truck, crossed my fingers just for luck. My fenders was clickin' the guardrail posts, the guy beside me was white as a ghost. Smoke was comin' from outta the back, when started t' gain on that Cacillac. Knew I could catch him, I thought I could pass, don'tcha by then we'd be low on gas. We had flames comin' from outta the side, you could feel the tension, man whatta ride. I said "look out boys, I got a license to fly," and that Caddy pulled over and let us by. Now all of a sudden she started knockin' down in the dip she started to rock. And I looked in the mirror, a red light was blinkin', the cops was after my hot rod Lincoln. They arrested me 'n' they put me in jail, 'n they called my pappy to throw my bail, 'n he said "son you're gonna drive me ta drinkin' if you don't stop drivin' that hot rod Lincoln. ***** HOT ROD LINCOLN (written by Charlie Ryan / W.S. Stevenson) Keith Owens My pappy said "Son, you're gonna drive me to drinkin', if you don't stop drivin' that Hot Rod Lincoln." Well have you heard the story of the hot rod race, with the Fords 'n' Lincolns really settin' the pace? That story is true, I'm here to say, I was drivin' that Model-A. It's got a Lincoln motor and it's really souped up, that Model-A body makes it look like a pup. It's got eight cylinders and 'e uses 'em all, got overdrive, just won't stall. With four-barrel carb and a dual exhaust, with 4 gears you can really get lost. Got safety tubes but I ain't scared, the brakes are good, tires fair. Pulled outta San Pedro late one night, when the moon 'n' the stars was shinin' bright. We was drivin' up Grapevine hill, passin' cars like they was standin' still. All of a sudden in the wink of an eye, A Cadillac sedan passed us by. I said "Boys that's the mark for me," by then the tailights was all you could see. Now the fellas ribbed me for bein' behind, so I thought I'd make the Lincoln unwind. Took my foot off the gas'n'man alive, I shoved it on down into overdrive. Wound it up to a hunderd an' ten, my speedometer said that I hit top end. My foot was glued like lead to the floor, that's all there is an' there ain't no more. Now the boys all thought I'd lost my sense, them telephone poles looked like a picket fence. They said "slow down, I see spots," the lines on the road just looked like dots. Took a corner'n'side-swiped a truck, crossed my fingers just for luck. My fenders was clickin' the guardrail posts, the guy beside me was white as a ghost. Smoke was comin' from outta the back, when started t' gain on that Cacillac. Knew I could catch him, I thought I could pass, don'tcha by then we'd be low on gas. We had flames comin' from outta the side, feel the tension, man whatta ride. I said "look out boys, I got a license to fly," and that Caddy pulled over and let us by. Now all of a sudden she started knockin' down she dips, she started rockin'. I looked in the mirror, a red light was blinkin', those cops were after my hot rod Lincoln. They arrested me 'n' they put me in jail, they called my pappy to throw my bail, 'n he said "son you're gonna drive me ta drinkin' if you don't stop drivin' that hot rod Lincoln. ***** X-15 (written by Johnny Bond) Johnny Bond - 1960 Gather 'round you cat's'n'you'll hear, about a race I had in the stratosphere. Ol' Joe had a slick jet, I mean, and I flew a souped-up X-15. Now don't tune me out, I know what you're a-thinkin', 'n I ain't gonna bug ya with no Hot Rod Lincoln. No, that was a long time ago, by my grandad back in nineteen six-oh. But now it's a-nineteen'n'ninety seven, we raced our jets next door to heaven, So if you're ready I'll start at the top, once I get a-goin' I won't wanna stop. Well they fastened our jets up under the wing, of one of them big B70 things, lifted us up to 80,000 feet, where the atmosphere and the stratosphere meet. Well, they cut us loose, and we cut away out, broke the sound barrier, there's not doubt. Gave her the gun, heard the motors purr, revved her up to 4,000 per. Off to my left, ol' Joe was a-whistlin', he was doin' okay in that rocket of hizzin', it was half past two when we left Nevada, now passin' below, Denver, Colorada. I noticed I was fallin' a little behind, so I thought I'd make this ol' turtle unwind. This little baby is sweeter than sweet, at a hundred and forty-four thousand feet. Now this X-15 is a goin' thing, got two little stubs, they call it a wing, won't help you much if the motor stalls, hey, lookie below, Niagra Falls. I kept goin' up on a two-degree course, ol' Joe kept comin', he weren't ridin' no horse, I noticed my (?) was a-makin' comotion, about the time we reached the Atlantic ocean. Now 'long about here, supposed to turn 'em around, and gather more speed as we angle 'em down. Sumpin' had happened, I heard a loud pop, looked out in time to see both motors stop. Now this little dip wasn't wrote in the script, when them jets went out I nearly quit. 'cause when this dang thing starts to fall, it floats like a two-ton cannonball. Wait just a minute, sumpin' wrong here, this thing ain't fallin', goin' high in the air, faster'n'faster, the higher we go, how we gonna get down, man I don't know. Well we circled the Earth in three hours flat, yes I'm in orbit, no doubt about that, here I sit, just circlin' in space, what's that? Don't ask me, I don't know who won the race. ***** HOT ROD ROCKET (written by Charlie Ryan / W.S. Stevenson) Charlie Ryan - 1960 You heard of the Russians 'n' their man in space, they say we're behind in this rocket race. Well up in Washington they started thinkin', they needed the cat with the Hot Rod Lincoln. 'Cause he was half of the Hot Rod Race, the Hot Rod Lincoln, 'n' the Burlington Chase. "Pass the Russians" was their battle cry, or they'll rule the world as well as the sky. Now the kid that was drivin' that hopped up hack, turned twenty-one just a while back. He got a letter from his Uncle Sam, he hopped in his rod & said "Here I Am." Down at Canavaral not long after that, who should I see but the hot rod cat. Boarded the missile with a smile on his face, I knew right then there was gonna be a race. When the hatch was shut on his channeled rod, I heard him sing out to a gathered crowd, "don't stand to close when I throttle her back, man this rod is mean, like there ain't no slack." When the count-down came, later that day, blasted off, he was up-and-away. Screamed off the pad with his hot machine, wastin' no time pouring on the steam. Then all of a sudden, way up ahead, he spied a Russian in his rocket red, He pushed the button 'n' gave her a blast, 'n' went into orbit, and I do mean fast. Passed old Jupiter, headed for Mars, clippin' them off up there in the stars, Commin' up fast, away out in space, like, man, they was havin' a rocket race. The Kid never frowned on an honest race, as long as it was done in a proper place, He gave her a blast, to make her unwind, he was gainin' fast, commin' up from behind. He was hummin' along at a frantic clip, 'cause there was no speed limit on this trip. The cat in the Lincoln was takin' a ride, 'n' him 'n' that Russian was side-by-side. There wasn't a crowd out there in space, him 'n' that Sputnik was havin' a race. He figgered that he could get enough force, to steer the Russian off'n his course. Heading for the sun, where it's good 'n' hot, so he blasted off just one more pot. Eased over beside him, and crowded him out, sure enough the Russian had'a turn 'em about. Countries are bettin', and the stakes are high, on just who is gonna rule the sky. Now this is not the end of this here race, 'cause that hot rod cat's still out in space. We haven't heard lately, but we will soon, that hot rod cat's headed for the moon. Time stands still when you're out in space, but man we're havin' a rocket race. ***** HOPPED-UP MUSTANG (written by Bill Romberger / Arlen Sanders) Arlen Sanders - 1964 Let me tell ya about my new steed, built for comfort, just my speed. Ford Mustang, modified to set the pace, Man, I could hardly wait to get out'n'race. It's got a 289 motor, with a special Cobra kit, there ain't nothin' on the road that can even touch it. It's got eight carburetors and it uses them all, with a four-speed stick that just won't stall. With that transistor iginition and power-pipe exhaust, this is the machine that'll really get lost. Everthing built to make it perform, it may not be hot but it sure is warm. We took delivery at the factory late one night, it was purrin' like a kitten and movin' just right. We pulled up on the freeway like it was goin' down hill, and started passin' the sleds like they was standin' still. Then all of a sudden, before I could bat an eye, a Cadillac sedan passed me by. Somebody said, like, "that's the wheels for me," but by then the tail lights was all I could see. Well, these cats ribbed me for bein' behind, so I started to make that Mustang unwind. Pushed the foot-feed clear to the floor, said "that's all there is, there ain't no more." Smoke was rollin' outta the back, when I started to gain on that Cadillac. I was sure I could catch him 'n' I hoped I could pass, but by then I knew I'd be short on gas. We went around a curve and passed a truck, I pulled out my rabitt's foot, just for luck. The fenders just missed the guardrail post, the guy in the back was white as a ghost. I glanced over at the chick on the other side, her face was blue 'n' I thought she'd died. But I wasn't worried, 'cause what the heck, by now me 'n' that Caddy was neck-and-neck. I guess they'd thought I'd lost my sense, the telephone poles looked like a picket fence. They said "slow down, I see spots, the lines on the road just look like dots." Went around a corner with the tires on the side, you could feel the tension, man, what a ride. I said "hold on, I got a license to fly," and that Cadillac faded back and let me by. Then I looked in the mirror 'n' saw somethin' comin', and I thought it was a plane by the way it was hummin. I'd been caught by a helicopter 'n' the CHP, that was it, man, the end of me. Well, they busted me and threw me in the can, so there was nothin' I could do but call the old man. He said "wail in jail, 'cause I won't bail." Dang me, he told me not to hop up that Mustang! ***** HOT ROD HARRY (written by Martin Christian) Johnny Bond - 1974 Everybody make way for Hot Rod Harry, of brains and cash I ain't got narry. Gotta cravin' love for blazin' speed, a whizzin' Lizzie, that's all I need. Now who needs dough, that's what I say, want somethin' bad enough, there's a will'n'a way. Da big dump heap just south of town, a lotta ol' cars just layin' around. Snuck out late one Wednesday night, so dark even ghosts were all outta sight, found four old wheels and a frame t'boot, won't look like much, but who gives a hoot. Got a motor block from an old dump truck, just my speed and just my luck, took it all home plus a dozen tires got my hammer 'n' nails 'n' some bailin' wire. Heard tell about a man of another day, built a wonderful, wonderful one horse shay. I'll do me the same, just give me the tools, my mama didn't raise no idiots or fools. Lotta hard work 'n' she's ready to roll, I took to that thing like a weevil to a boll. A friend of mine towed it t'the top of a hill, a lotta smooth road 'n' it's all downhill. I released the brake 'n' was under way, sailing was smooth if I do so say. At fifty per, got ta sizin' her up, if I left sumpin' out, I'm a suck-eyed pup. Sixty MPH, just look at them tires, balanced so smooth 'n' the clutch's on fire, our instrument's workin', cool as the snow, this baby's a peach, beats walkin' you know. I put her together like Edsels and Fords, got me some old-timed running boards. Eighty, then ninety, sailing along, got fair piece from home, ain't nothin' goin' wrong. Hit a hundert'n'ten at the foot of the grade, as the builder of hot rods I've got it made, a foot on the brake, I slowed her way down, swung to a stop and turned 'er around. Pulled up in the station and up to the pump, hollered to the man, "Hey, man, fill 'er up." He grabbed the hose, started t'lookin' around, scratchin' his head and snortin' around. "I give up," the station man said, "where's the gas cap?" (my face turned red). I knowed there was something, as my mind went blank, I forgot to install a gasoline tank. ***** WHITE FORD BRONCO (Parody) Bob Rivers The TV said the Juice must have gone plumb locco, and there's cop cars chasing a white Ford Bronco. Have you heard the story of the low-speed chase, and the Swat Teams waitin' at OJ's place? That story is true, it's sad to say, I was watching the game when they cut away. He told the L.A. cops he was gonna give up, and the media setup their satellite trucks. Had eighteen cameras at city hall, then OJ's lawyer began to stall. All of a sudden, in the wink of an eye, that Bronco was spotted on 405. On CNN and the networks three, the flashing tailights was all you could see. Now the Rockets & Knicks were in game five, when OJ started that fateful drive, his four-way hazard lights were blinkin', and no one knew what the Juice was thinkin'. Now the newsmen said he'd lost his sense, said insanity'd be his best defense, but they knew this show was awfully hot, so they jockeyed around for action shots. There was phycho-analysts and personal friends, beggin' the Juice to turn himself in, TV copters high above, and cops in the bushes, dressed like shrubs. Fans were cheerin' from the side of the road, one man yellin' out "go, Juice, go." Wavin' signs when Al pulled in, ninety-five million people tuned in. And so they took a mug shot and threw him in jail, Time Magazine thought he looked too pale. Networks plannin' a brand new show, "Cop Cars Chasing A White Ford Bronco." ***** CHRISTMAS HOT ROD RACE The Leadfoot Four - 1997 You've heard the story of the hot rod race, where the Fords and the Mercury's were settin' the pace, well here's one story you won't believe, it happened late one Christmas Eve. The kid who was driving that Model-A was headed back to Oklahoma for Christmas day, when in the rear-view mirror there's a red light blinkin', "oh, my gosh, it's the cops" he's thinkin'. Well he pushed it to the floor and let the motor unwind, but that guy with the light pulled up right behind, it was some custom model he had never seen, candy apple red and satellite green. The kid couldn't hear the engine and he thought he'd queer that this sled was powered by eight reindeer. In the wink of an eye the old crate was passing, that light was the lead deer's nose a'flashin'. There was a chubby old gent at the wheel of this sled, with a beard'n'a jumpsuit all of red, smokin' a pipe and fairly blind he passed the kid like he wasn't even tryin'. Well now the kid had raced against many cars, and he wasn't scared of one looked like it was from Mars. He would take anything, whether chop or stock, with his racing cam and his fifty-four block. Well that Model-A had what it took, hit a hundred and ten, just past Holbrook, the kid pulled alongside, said "you wanna go?", the cat with the beard just said "ho, ho, ho." Well they both were givin' it all it's worth, the lead was passin' back-and forth, 'til they hit the mountains of New Mexico, the road was covered with ice'n'snow. Well that sled kept a-goin' but the kid started slippin' he had to slow down to keep from flippin', that snow's no good for his racing slicks, yeah, the kid was just about out of tricks. Well he thought that maybe he'd lost this race, when the other guy slowed down the pace, he was pullin' on the reins of them eight reindeer, shiftin' 'em down into lower gear. Well that cat kept'a putting the brakes to that sleigh, when he was just a car length away, he tossed a box right in the kid's lap, it was a brand new set of spinner hubcaps. The he dashed off so fast that a rock couldn't follow, though the kid was sure that he heard him holler, just before he nitro'd into space, "Merry Christmas, thanks for the Hot Rod Race". ***** HOT ROD SLEIGH Randy Holmes My daddy said "Son, you'll never see Christmas Day If you don't stop drivin' that Hot Rod Sleigh." Every December when a big snow falls My radio always gets a call Stuck in a snowdrift I hear 'em pout The call on me to pull 'em out. Hikers bikers skiers too They all get stuck And can't pull through A call or twenty every day I pull 'em out with my Hot Rod Sleigh. Got a special jet engine Ain't got no gears No messy problems with reindeer. Just a lever that reads Quick or quicker And it don't use gas Just good corn liquor. Well one night not too long ago The weatherman predicted snow. On Christmas Eve With skies of blue Last time I looked It was six foot two. Well I pulled down the covers To snuggle down tight But then I got a call Right around midnight. Ho Ho HELP! I heard him say Santa needed me And my Hot Rod Sleigh Santa told me where he got stuck And I knewwith just a little luck I'd get to him and save the day Just me, Kris Kringle and my Hot Rod Sleigh. Well when I got where he was at All I could see was his red hat Reindeer antlers pokin' through And Rudolph's red nose turned to blue. Well I went around back And got my chains Hooked that Hot Rod Sleigh Up to Santa's reins. Gave a pull on that old sled My Hot Rod runners glowin' red. All of a sudden she started knockin' My turbine engine started a rockin' Felt a shake and heard a shout Well, wadda ya know, I pulled 'em out. Santa said "Boy I gotta run I got a little job I gotta get done But remember every Christmas Day You help'd out Santa with your Hot Rod Sleigh. So now I smile when it's December I'll tell the story and remember When my Daddy said "Son you'll never see Christmas Day If you don't stop drivin' that HOT ROD SLEIGH." ***** HOT ROD RACER Bernardo Malfitano My mamma said "Son, I get so scared and afraid each time you race in that pod you made. (guitar intro) Have you heard the story of the Boonta Eve race where a kid and a Dug were setting the pace? That story is true, I can tell you that, cuz I was drivin' that twin-engine jet. With Radon-Ulzer engines that I really improved and augmented injectors, that thing could move! Eight fans in the compressor, and use'd them all, but too much tradium fuel and it just might stall. With a movable nozzle and dual air spills... The triple air scoops make cornering a thrill. As the race started, I would've done fine, except that Dug messed with my fuel line. So I left the grid later than the rest, but when it came to speed I was simply the best. With engines and the Force both at my will, I was passing pods like they were standin' still. (guitar bit) It wasn't long till I caught up with the Dug, He had crashed most opponents and was lookin' smug. He was aggressive but I didn't fear him, through canyons and caves I slowly closed in. The other podracers were left far behind (except Mars Guo's, which almost crashed into mine). But once in the open desert, whopee! I set the augmentor to full A.B. Well I wound it up to six hundred and ten, and was actually winning for a while, but then the Dug started getting nasty and all, pushing and shoving me towards the canyon wall. Up the service ramp, "Oh now I'md Dead" with cones and markers bouncing overhead. Went up, then down, through the air I sped. With a thrust-vectored landing, I (was (again) ahead. *** missing a line here *** I was almost running out of luck. A valve flew off, left engine stalled! (For this, I wanted the damn Dug's balls!) Smoke was coming from out of the side and Sebulba was gaining, while hard I tried to compensate the thrust and gas I put out the fire and did a fuel bypass. My pod met his and again he shoved it, but we stuck together (man, the crowd just loved it). I upped the thrust, the two podos in a lock, but the Dug broke loose and flew into a rock. All of a sudden, the crowd was roarin', my friends were cheering, Jabba a-snorin'. Victory was sweet but Watto didn't taste her, because I has won with my new podracer. So they freed me, I then left my mom, Joined the Jedi and I was gone. But I knew I'd be back to free and embrace her all because I won in my HOT...POD...RACER! ***** ALL THESE VERSIONS & FULL STORY (courtesy of www.rockabillyhall.com) ***** HOT ROD RACE (written by George Wilson) Bob Williams - 1960 additional lyrics by Richard Harbart Now me and my wife and my brother Joe took off in my Ford from San Pedro; We hadn’t much gas and the tires were low But that ole Ford could really go. It was somewhere along about the middle of the night We was rippin’ along like a people might, When a mercury behind began to blink his lights Then, tootin’ his horn, he came up in my sight. Now he had twin pots and a Colombia clutch And a speed no other car could touch, And to you folks who don’t dig that jive That’s two carburetors and an overdrive. He was goosin’ the gas when the smile on his face Showed me he was smirkin’ all over the place. He was checking to see if I was up for the chase, Cause he was callin’ me out for a hot rod race. My foot went down, I flew back in the seat; My brother screamed when up went his feet; My wife called me a name that wasn’t too neat, But me and that Merc were gonna burn up some street. We made grease spots outta many a town, and left the cops runnin’ round 'n' round. They wouldn't chase, they'd run and hide, but me and that Mercury stayed side by side. Now we’re Ford men and we both knew we would race till something blew My car shook and the engine cried But me and that mercury stayed side by side. My brother paled and said he was sick, I was laughin’ cause he looked like a nervous wreck, But I wasn’t worried, what the heck, Me and that Mercury was neck and neck. Out on the desert we did glide A -flyin low and a-flyin wide Me and that mercury taking a ride Staying exactly side by side. Now I looked in my mirror and I saw somethin' comin', I thought it was a plane by the way it was a-runnin'. It was a-hummin' along at a terrible pace, and I knew right then it was the end of the race. When it flew by, I turned the other way, the guy in the Mercury had nothin' to say, for passin’ us up as he went his way was a kid, in a hopped up Model-A. (contributed by Rich Harbart) *****