Lord, Mr. Ford

Jerry Reed

credits


publisher: ©HORI PRO ENTERTAINMENT GROUP
writers: Dick Feller
album: Track 1 in album Lord, Mr. Ford
release date: 1973-6
popularity : 7 users have visited this page.
length: 3:17

Album Information

label: RCA Victor
country(area): United States
format: 12" Vinyl
script: Latin

Cover Art

Jerry Reed Lord, Mr. Ford cover art

Lyrics

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Well, if you're one of the millions who own one of them gas-drinking, piston-clinking, air-polluting, smoke-belching, four-wheeled buggies from Detroit City, then pay attention. I'm about to sing your song son.
Well, I'm not a man appointed judge
But I think it's time I said me a few choice words
A metal box with the polyglass wheel
Well I've got a car that's mine alone
A ready-made pile of manufactured grief
I'm a-changin' a flat in a hurricane
Well it ain't just the smoke and the traffic jam
But this four-wheel buggy is
For gas and oils and fluids and grease
And them accessories
Well you can get a stereo tape and a color TV
And just pay once a month, like you do your rent
This four thousand dollar car of mine
And ninety-nine cents, well now
[Chorus]
What your simple horseless carriage has become
To say the least, got a little out of hand

Own one whole car and half another
Trick to buy, don't you
Is the way we measure a man's success
Well now, red light, green light, traffic cop
Get out the credit card honey, we're out of gas
Would reach to the moon and back again
Fool pull out to pass
Without that carbon monoxide haze
Well if the Lord that made the moon and stars
He'd have seen that we was all born


In my smoking, choking automobileWell, if you're one of the millions who own one of them gas-drinking, piston-clinking, air-polluting, smoke-belching, four-wheeled buggies from Detroit City, then pay attention. I'm about to sing your song son.
Well, I'm not a man appointed judge
But I think it's time I said me a few choice words
A metal box with the polyglass wheel
Well I've got a car that's mine alone
A ready-made pile of manufactured grief
I'm a-changin' a flat in a hurricane
Well it ain't just the smoke and the traffic jam
But this four-wheel buggy is
For gas and oils and fluids and grease
And them accessories
Well you can get a stereo tape and a color TV
And just pay once a month, like you do your rent
This four thousand dollar car of mine
And ninety-nine cents, well now
[Chorus]
What your simple horseless carriage has become
To say the least, got a little out of hand

Own one whole car and half another
Trick to buy, don't you
Is the way we measure a man's success
Well now, red light, green light, traffic cop
Get out the credit card honey, we're out of gas
Would reach to the moon and back again
Fool pull out to pass
Without that carbon monoxide haze
Well if the Lord that made the moon and stars
He'd have seen that we was all born


In my smoking, choking automobileWell, if you're one of the millions who own one of them gas-drinking, piston-clinking, air-polluting, smoke-belching, four-wheeled buggies from Detroit City, then pay attention. I'm about to sing your song son.
Well, I'm not a man appointed judge
But I think it's time I said me a few choice words
A metal box with the polyglass wheel
Well I've got a car that's mine alone
A ready-made pile of manufactured grief
I'm a-changin' a flat in a hurricane
Well it ain't just the smoke and the traffic jam
But this four-wheel buggy is
For gas and oils and fluids and grease
And them accessories
Well you can get a stereo tape and a color TV
And just pay once a month, like you do your rent
This four thousand dollar car of mine
And ninety-nine cents, well now
[Chorus]
What your simple horseless carriage has become
To say the least, got a little out of hand

Own one whole car and half another
Trick to buy, don't you
Is the way we measure a man's success
Well now, red light, green light, traffic cop
Get out the credit card honey, we're out of gas
Would reach to the moon and back again
Fool pull out to pass
Without that carbon monoxide haze
Well if the Lord that made the moon and stars
He'd have seen that we was all born


In my smoking, choking automobileWell, if you're one of the millions who own one of them gas-drinking, piston-clinking, air-polluting, smoke-belching, four-wheeled buggies from Detroit City, then pay attention. I'm about to sing your song son.
Well, I'm not a man appointed judge
But I think it's time I said me a few choice words
A metal box with the polyglass wheel
Well I've got a car that's mine alone
A ready-made pile of manufactured grief
I'm a-changin' a flat in a hurricane
Well it ain't just the smoke and the traffic jam
But this four-wheel buggy is
For gas and oils and fluids and grease
And them accessories
Well you can get a stereo tape and a color TV
And just pay once a month, like you do your rent
This four thousand dollar car of mine
And ninety-nine cents, well now
[Chorus]
What your simple horseless carriage has become
To say the least, got a little out of hand

Own one whole car and half another
Trick to buy, don't you
Is the way we measure a man's success
Well now, red light, green light, traffic cop
Get out the credit card honey, we're out of gas
Would reach to the moon and back again
Fool pull out to pass
Without that carbon monoxide haze
Well if the Lord that made the moon and stars
He'd have seen that we was all born


In my smoking, choking automobile

Video

Track Listing


12" Vinyl 1
  • 1 Lord, Mr. Ford
  • 2 Folsom Prison Blues
  • 3 Rainbow Ride
  • 4 Two-Timin'
  • 5 That Lucky Old Sun (Just Rolled Around Heaven All Day)
  • 6 You Can't Keep Me Here in Tennessee
  • 7 The Lady Is a Woman
  • 8 Pickie, Pickie, Pickie
  • 9 One Sweet Reason
  • 10 I'm Gonna Write a Song