My Thunderbird, my Thunderbird
Put your head on my shoulder
Don't say a word

We'll cut across town in my Thunderbird

There's a burial ground

Beneath a cattle herd
Mr. Henry Ford's building me a Thunderbird


My Thunderbird, my Thunderbird
Put your head on my shoulder
Don't say a word

We'll cut across the country in my Thunderbird

We're from Pennsylvania

Welsh men of words
My daddy drove a Desoto
I drive a Thunderbird


My Thunderbird, my Thunderbird
She's the voice of the future

Baby, have you heard
Tomorrow's taken wing on my Thunderbird


My Thunderbird, my Thunderbird
Put your head on my shoulder
Don't say a word

We'll cut across town in my Thunderbird

Got electric windows

Tilt away wheel
Slide across the bucket seat
For that sexy leather feel of


My Thunderbird, my Thunderbird
Put your head on my shoulder

Don't say a word
We'll cut across town in my Thunderbird


From the old Volkswagen
Back to the Model T
A lot of men died

Just so you could ride with me in

My Thunderbird, my Thunderbird

She drives like a dream
Baby rest $$#ured
It don't get any better than a Thunderbird


My daddy was a salesman
My brother was too

I would sell anything
Just to try to stay with you


But not my Thunderbird
No not my Thunderbird
Willy Loman's saying something

I can't hear a word
I'm going too fast in my Thunderbird


They make 'em that way
Yeah they make 'em that way
Well they make 'em that way

Yeah they make 'em that way
Well they make 'em that way