C. W. Mccall - Classified lyrics

rate me

<b>Classified</b> by <i>C.W. McCall</i><br />

I's thumbin' through the want ads in the Shelby

County Tribune when this classified advertisement

caught my eye. It said, "Take imme-di-ate delivery

on this '57 Chevrolet half-ton pickup truck. Will

sell or swap for a hide-a-bed and thirty-five

bucks. Call One-four-oh, ring two, and ask for

Bob." Well, I called Bob up on the telephone, he

says, "Hello, this is Bob speakin'." I says "This

here the Bob got the pickup truck for sale?" He

says, "Yeah." I says, "Where are ya?" He says,

"Fourteen east on County 12, turn right on the

one-lane gravel road, you can park in the yard,

beware of the dog, wipe your feet off, knock three

times, and bring your billfold." Well, I tooled on

east on County 12, turned right on the one-lane

gravel road, and I parked in the yard and a German

shepherd come out and grabbed onto my leg. Then I

knocked three times and wiped my feet, the dog let

go and the screen door opened and Bob come out and

says "Whaddya want?" I says, "Come to see your

truck." He says, "Follow me. Come on, Frank."

(Dog's name is Frank.) Well, we all went past the

chicken house, through the hog pen, down to the

tractor shed, and then wound up in back of the

barn in a field of cowpies. And settin' right

there in a pool of grease was a half-ton Chevy

pickup truck with a 1960 license plate, a bumper

sticker says "Vote for Dick" and Brillo box full

of rusty parts, and Bob says "Whaddya think?".

Well, I kicked the tires and I got in the seat and

set on a petrified apple core and found a bunch of

field mice livin' in the glove compartment. He

says, "Her shaft is bent and her rear end leaks,

you can fix her quick with an oily rag. Use a nail

as a starter; I lost the key. Don't pay no mind to

that whirrin' sound. She use a little oil, but

outside a' that, she's cherry." I says, "What'll

take?" He says, "What've you got?" I says,

"Twenty-eight dollars and fifteen cents." He says,

"You got a deal. Sign here, I'll go get the title

and a can full of gas." I put the nail in the slot

and fired 'er up; she coughed and belched up a

bunch a' smoke and I backed her right through the

hog pen into the yard. Well, Frank jumped in and

bit my leg and I beat him off with a crowbar. He

jumped on out and the door fell off and the left

front tire went flat. I jacked it up and patched

the tube and Frank tore a piece of my shirt off.

Then Bob come out and called him off and says "You

better'd get on out of here." I went left on the

one-lane gravel road, went fourteen west on County

12. Took two full quarts of forty-weight oil just

to get her to the Conoco station. And I pulled up

to the Regular pump and then Harold Sykes and his

kid come out. He says, "I've seen better stuff at

junkyards and where'd you ever get that truck?" I

says, "That's a long story, Harold. I's thumbin'

through the want ads in the Shelby County Tribune

when this classified advertisement caught my eye.

It said, "Take imme-di-ate delivery on this '57

Chevrolet half-ton pickup truck. Will sell or swap

for a hide-a-bed and thirty-five bucks..."