Flathead One More Time

Three o'clock, thismorning, I woke up in a dream.

Thought I heard a flathead motor roar, I thought I smelled gasoline.

A feeling came upon me, that I ain't had in years.

Something like a hot dry wind, whistling past my ears.

Saying "time, time, time is all you got".

There's a memory that's still burning, way down in my mind.

And that's why, I'm going out and trying, a flathead one more time.

I ain't seen my racing buddies in thirty years, or more.

One by one I lost them, out on the dry leaf floor.

We learnt to push those flathead cars as hard as they could go.

Just like old Whiskey Bob, down on Thunder Road.

I hear their voices calling, just accross the finish line.

And that's why, I'm going out and trying, a flathead one more time.

I'll get back to you baby, don't you have no fear.

'Cos I been there, and I wrecked that, and baby I'm still here.

But I can't take you with me, when I cross the finish line.

And that's why, I'm going out and trying, a flathead, one, more, time.

Time, time, time is all you got.