Loretta in Her Sweater
Words and Music by Thomas Gannett and Byron Sheppard
Green anole hitched a ride on a Lincoln.
He’s got a good hold—don’t let on what he’s thinking.
The day is young, and the road is long—
folks probably already wondering where he’s gone.
He gets down in the grille when we are standing still,
but he is back up grooving soon as we are moving.
He is riding in style with a chameleon smile,
and it appears he may be riding with me for a while.
He’s just along for the ride.
He won’t be persuaded to ride inside.
He’s holding on to a star.
I doubt he intended to travel so far.
Jolie blonde in a well-lined sweater
liked to ride in my car if only I would let her.
In a manly voice I said, “Why, yes you can
enjoy a ride in my luxury sedan.”
So we hit the road, half a tank and no spare;
did not know where we’d go or how to get there.
Now it’s too many miles gone down this highway
to be wondering if we are going the right way.
She came along for the ride.
Who would have thought she’d still be at my side?
Got a tailwind and we’re heading on.
It might just get us yet where we belong.