Car With No Reverse - 1975 Chevy Monza 4 Speed Manual

I rolled like Caesar down the boulevard the day I came to town. My triumph was impromptu and abrupt. I parked my Chevy by the curbside on a gentle downhill slope In hope there’d be no need for backing up. From near the Devil’s Crossroads where I’d tempted fate To the edge of Austin in the Lone Star State. I walked my hunger to a roadhouse, spied the waitress shooting pool. She ignored me, so I had to volunteer, “I’ll have the Humperdinck pastrami with a Chopin polonaise, And Jesus Christ, I need a goddamn beer!” I swear her body English, when she broke the rack, It took my breath away and wouldn’t give it back. She was a cowgirl from the city with a wide Bonanza spread And the guns to run the rustlers out of Dodge. I had an immigrant’s desire just to lay my burden down And shack up in some low rent motor lodge. I said, “I’m here on business, babe, but heaven knows, How your desert blossoms like a gypsy rose! She played the accidental vixen like a cunning ingénue And adlibbed her audition for the part. She said, “The Workman’s Daily Special comes with saucy bedroom eyes. If you’re picky, you can order ala carte.” It seemed an outright bargain in a joint like this, A spaghetti western with a Hitchcock twist. I said, “I’ll be your Prince of Darkness if you’ll be my guiding light And lead me down the path of least regret.” She said her hands were always busy, but her heart was sometimes free, And humored me by playing hard to get. I offered Old Persuasion from a bootleg flask. Heard the waitress answer, “Thought you’d never ask.” She left her apron on the counter, took her jacket off the hook, Deposited the tip jar in her purse, Then we motored off to Splitsville down a narrow one-lane road, Playing chicken in a car with no reverse.