Eric Church – Hippie Radio (Guitar)

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My daddy had a Pontiac on the beige-er side of yellow

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He was a young man then and I was a little fella

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I'd play in that bench back seat and listen to the songs get sung

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He couldn't carry a tune in a bucket but he'd sing at the top of his lungs

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Carry on my wayward son on a hippie radio

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Songs about the flower babies and the birth of rock and roll

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And I was band and I would stand and we'd bounce down the road

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A boy and his dad in a Pontiac with that hippie radio

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Can't' remember if it was seventeen, maybe eighteen is right

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But I'll never forget those baby blues and the glow of that dashboard light

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I'd won her heart the week before and it was hot right from the start

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I busted her brother Billy's mouth for makin' fun of my car

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It was White Wedding and Rebel Yell on the hippie radio

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I was Werewolf in London, and she was Lady Marmalade's soul

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And I'd crank the band, take her hand and we'd pull off back a road

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A boy and his girl in a Pontiac, and the hippie radio

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Four years and seven days from tying cans to the bumper

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I was pacing a maternity floor, my flower baby was a mother

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My hands were shaking as we were leaving, taking our boy home

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My heart was full and in my head I could hear a long, long song

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Cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon on the hippie radio

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A-B-C, 1-2-3, don't blink or he'll be gone

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And I took her hand and she just smiled with a look that said "I know"

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A boy and his dad and a boy and his girl in a Pontiac

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And the hippie radio