Mr. smith had an Oldsmobile
Baby blue with wire wheels
I took her home the day that she was advertised
He said she leaked when it would rain
Sounded like an aeroplane
But I knew she was a jewel in disguise

She had a 455 Rocket
The biggest block alive
Couldn't hardly wait just to take my turn
Umm, she was made for the straight aways
She grew up hating Chevrolets
She's a rocket, she was made to burn

Well, whose junk pile piece of Chevelle is this?
You boys come here to race or just kiss?
Mmm, now don't you wanna know what I got underneath my hood?
I know she might sound like she's missing
Buddy, she could teach you a lesson
In just a quarter mile, and I'll smoke you good

In my 455 Rocket
The kind the police drive
I couldn't hardly wait just to take my turn
Mmm, she was made for the straight aways
She grew up hating Chevrolets
She's a rocket, she was made to burn

I'm telling you and I ain't ashamed
I cried when that wrecker came
As we skid, I thought I heard the angels sing
Sounded like the Beach Boys
We hit the curve and then began to sail
Took out most of the safety rail
Even the cop asked me, "Man, what'd you have in that thing?"

I had a 455 Rocket
The very kind you drive
You oughta watch yourself when you take that turn
Mmm, she was made for the straight aways
She grew up hating Chevrolets
She's a rocket, she was made to burn (burn)
Oh, she's a rocket, she was made to burn

Copyright: Universal Music Publishing Group, Wixen Music Publishing
Writer(s): David Todd Rawlings, Gillian Howard Welch