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 My little sister's in the front seat with an ice cream cone My ma's in the black seat sittin' all alone As my pa steers her slow out of the lot for a test drive down Michigan Avenue Now, my ma, she fingers her wedding band And watches the salesman stare at my old man's hands He's tellin' us all 'bout the break he'd give us if he could, but he just can't Well if I could, I swear I know just what I'd do Now, mister, the day the lottery I win I ain't ever gonna ride in no used car again Now, the neighbors come from near and far As we pull up in our brand new used car I wish he'd just hit the gas and let out a cry and tell 'em all they can kiss our asses goodbye My dad, he sweats the same job from mornin' to morn Me, I walk home on the same dirty streets where I was born Up the block I can hear my little sister in the front seat blowin' that horn The sounds echoin' all down Michigan Avenue Now, mister, the day my numbers comes in I ain't ever gonna ride in no used car again
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Copyright © Bruce Springsteen (ASCAP)
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