I was driving up the turnpike, to New York, and my '67 Buick had seen better days
With my hat and jacket tossed upon the backseat, and a sefer on the dashboard, that would look real fine
'Cause the shadchan said, "This time it would be different." I'd heard those words so many times before. "But the family's nice, oh, believe me, this one's special", I said "All right, but only just once more"
I could hear the awkward words that would soon be said, when we met one another for the first time.
And the feeling would be there that when we walked outside, of hopeful eyes staring from the window.
The man inside the tollbooth said "Oh, it's you again", I felt like turning back right then and there.
And as I crossed the bridge, I wondered what we'd do – a lounge, a walk or maybe just the living room.
'Cause the shadchan said, "This time it would be different." I'd heard those words so many times before. "But the family's nice, oh believe me, this one's special", I said "All right, but only just once more"
I wondered what the problems would be this time.
Which one would say it was not meant to be.
And the nagging thoughts would start to cross my mind.
Would I ever find the one that's right for me?
And in the morning, I would have to talk to mom and dad, tell them what went wrong, but that don't get me scared.
It's that shadchan callin' up, and saying one more time, "I've got another one, I'm sure it's bashert".
I'm still driving up the turnpike to New York, and my '67 Buick still had better days.
But the drive, it's not as lonely as it used to be. 'cause I got my wife and seven kids along with me.
And every now and then my wife tells me go make a call, to some young man who wants to settle down.
And I tell him all about middos and personality, and the ten best places that there are in town.
And I say to him "This time it will be different", he says to me "I've heard those words before."
"But the family's nice, oh believe me, this one's special," he says "all right", oh, he says "all right, but only just once more".