The Little Ford Rambled Right Along
Words by C.R. Foster and Music by Byron Gay

Verse 1: Now Henry Jones and a pretty little queen,
Took a ride one day in his big limousine,
The car kicked up and the engine wouldn't crank,
There wasn't any gas in the gasoline tank,
About that time along came Nord,
And he rambled right along in his little old Ford;
And he stole that Queen as his engine sang a song,
And his little old Ford just rambled right along.

Chorus 1: And his little old Ford it rambled right along,
And the little old Ford it rambled right along,
The gas burned out in the big machine,
But the darned little Ford don't need gasoline,
The big limousine had to back down hill.
The blamed little Ford is going up still,
When she blows out a tire just wrap it up with wire,
And the little Ford will ramble right along.

Verse 2: Now they ran over glass and they ran over nails,
And they ran over pigs and puppy dogs' tails,
They spotted a coupe and shot out of sight,
They rambled all day and they rambled all night,
They smashed up fences and telegraph poles,
They bumped into ditches and deep chuck holes,
They bumped into a preacher and the preacher took a ride,
And the Ford rambled on with Johnny [or Nord] and his bride.

Chorus 2: And the little old Ford it rambled right along,
And the little old Ford it rambled right along,
He swung around the corner and he bumped into a mule;
And the darned old jackass kicked like a fool;
He kicked and he kicked and he kicked the wheels,
But he had to quit kicking to save his heels,
When it runs out of dope just fill it up with soap,
And the little Ford will ramble right along.

Verse 3: You can smash the top and smash up the seat,
You can twist it out of shape till both ends meet;
Smash the body and rip out a gear;
Smash up the front and smash up the rear;
Smash up the fender and rip off the tires,
Smash up the lamps and cut out the wires,
Throw in the clutch and then forget the juice,
And the little old Ford will go to beat the deuce.

Chorus 3: And the little old Ford it rambled right along,
And the little old Ford it rambled right along,
Now cut that out you naughty tease,
'Tis a left hand driver and a right hand squeeze.
Patch it up with a piece of string,
Spearmint gum or any old thing,
When the power gets sick just hit it with a brick,
And the little Ford will ramble right along.

Verse 4: The street car company was making people stand,
There was room for a foot and a strap for a hand.
The poor suburbanites were standing in the street,
The language they were using wasn't very sweet.
Along came a Ford with a big white sign
That a nickel took you out to the end of the line;
It stole those people as the trolley came along.
And the little old Ford sang a five cent song.

Chorus 4: And the little old Ford, it rambled right along,
And the little old Ford, it rambled right along,
The street car ran with an empty house,
For everybody rode on the little "road louse,"
The street car people nearly had a fit,
But the blamed little Ford, it didn't care a bit,
When you want to get some graft,
Just load up your funny craft,
And the little Ford will ramble right along.

I'm In Love With My Car
Words and music by Roger Taylor

The machine of a dream
Such a clean machine
With the pistons a-pumpin'
And the hub caps all gleam

When I'm holdin your wheel
All I hear is your gear
When my hands on your grease gun
Oh it's like a disease son

I'm in love with my car
Gotta feel for my automobile
Get a grip on my boy racer rollbar
Such a thrill when your radials squeal

Told my girl I'll have to forget her
Rather buy me a new carburetor
So she made tracks sayin'
This is the end now
Cars don't talk back
They're just four wheeled friends now

When I'm holdin' your wheel
All I hear is your gear
When I'm cruisin in overdrive
Don't have to listen to no run of the mill talk jive

I'm in love with my car
Gotta feel for my automobile
I'm in love with my car
String back gloves in my automolove