Fred Eaglesmith - Pontiac lyrics

It's a Pontiac It's a '63 Stratochief with a three on the tree And it belongs to me And my baby Her and me We go driving down old highway seventeen She puts on the radio Rolls down the window Lays her head back It's a Pontiac It ain't got no wild horses painted on the side And the objects in the mirror are precisely their own size It's got a chrome Indian in front of the door Might be an Apache or an Arapaho Or a Pontiac There was an incident last night At seventeen and third It all happened so fast nobody's really sure But somebody held the rifle, somebody held the sack And as fast as they were there Well they were gone just like that In a Pontiac The anti-freeze is boiling and the oil pressure's low And the pedal's to the metal and it's as fast as it can go And the stain on her shoulder I getting darker you know And the radio keep blasting out the facts It's a Pontiac