My good friend had a girlfriend; she was a crazy thing,
She’d be so nice at first, and then she’d change,
One night she started kicking, she started swinging too,
Before she stole his car, he was black and blue,
We stood there starting as she raced away,
His Fleetwood never looked the same after that day.
Crash Cadillac,
It made her feel good to get the boy back,
Crash Cadillac.
We went out searching for that slick, sick thing,
She must have been high, stoned, drunk or something,
‘Cause over the hill, near the railroad tracks, she was dancing, all bloody, on a pile of trash.
Crash Cadillac,
It made her feel good to get the boy back,
Crash Cadillac.
She said, “I’m gonna die; won’t you kiss me once more?
But I’ll never be sorry about your ’64.”
Crash Cadillac,
It made her feel good to get the boy back,
Crash Cadillac,
Crash Cadillac,
It made her feel good to get the boy back,
Crash Cadillac.
She’s just sitting here, smiling, man,
Oh, beautiful,
Oh, beautiful.
