He's the king of the Cobras, a pavemount hound

He plays upon a waitress at the Space Lodge Lounge

In walks "no shoes - no service" as the plates hit the ground

Her two-week notice, just blew into town

He cools the evening with a Blue Ribbon beer

She's chewin' gum in his right ear

Broke down in Bedrock Canyon, dropped the clutch and pressure plate

You know the red-head took two quarts

Now she's running great

I went out on vacation, out on Interstate 10

The heat's gettin' to ya, so's the wife and kids

He'll rise up out of the blacktop, like a pagan god

And blow on by you like some mirage