Story Behind The Song

Romantic love strikes at will, and this is a story of love at first sight. Our hero is minding his business, working at a bank drive-up window, when he comes down with the most sudden and uncontrollable kind of romantic love.

Song Description

This is meant to be a song that could fit in very well on The Cars' first album, with a dash of Material Issue's lyrical obsession with girls (and girls' names).

Lyrics

Why did I run so late?
That's a good question, and to answer, may I present
To you Miss Shannon Dale
Sent on a daydrop to my bank by her management.
& the first thing I heard
Was the sound of Marshall Crenshaw's tune "There & Back"
Pounding out her beastly LTD (or Cadillac).

The beater's bench-style seats
Had handmade patches keeping some of the stuffing in.
The petty cash inside
Of her canvas bag was dampened & sticky-thin
From a Suds Cream Push Pop,
While the ice cream left uneaten dropped on her shins.

Teething her driver's license just like it was a bit,
(Work it, babygirl, you got me on the tilt-a-whirl.)
Marks on hologram plastic where Lincoln's portrait sits,
(Work out, pretty babe, you've munched right thru old Honest Abe.)

Blue gum stuck into craters that she was chewing
Before she stuck her ID (that she was bluing)
In the carrier drop tube that she was screwing
Closed on her deposit slips all stuck together tight.
But it's alright

'Cause she knows
Just how to work it, baby,
In camo shorts that come a little too small for her size,
& she knows
Just how to work it, baby,
In worn-out tops that won't quite hide her navel from your eyes,
& she knows
Just how to work it, baby,
It winks right at you like a decimal above her thighs.
I gotta be where you are, babe, 'cause you work it just right.

She rolled the window down
& she asked me, "Can you shitcan this? . . . I mean, file? . . .
Um, throw this gum away?"
Her lower lip was blue, her face had turned red, but while
Her fingernails were scraps,
Even her moment of embarrassment had such style.

Counted down all the money, & sealed it in the vault.
(Work it, babyface, I'm getting brainfreeze from this shake.)
Threw my hip flask away, traded whiskey sours for malts.
(Work out, don't be shy: Think Bachman Turner Overdrive.)

Packed up all of my knicknacks inside of cardboard.
Left a note for my boss, read: "I quit. I'm past bored."
Stuffed a tube full of pops & I locked the front door.
Walked across the way, filled out an app for Dog 'n' Suds,
& all because

She knows
Just how to work it, baby,
In camo shorts that come a little too small for her size,
& she knows
Just how to work it, baby,
In worn-out tops that won't quite hide her navel from your eyes,
& she knows
Just how to work it, baby,

It winks right at you like a decimal above her thighs.
She's like the flash of white between the stocking & skirt
When brushing lint away, some fleeting customer's flirt.
She's like the gumball from some machine that barely can work:
Your bites are tentative, afraid of getting hurt
'Cause you've broken your jaw
From all of those stale
Pieces you've tried on your search,
But you've stayed alert,
Kept to the trail
'Till one day you gnaw
On just the right one that squirts
A Mint-Fresh dessert.

I'm grilling Charco Dogs
& drinking root beer floats & watching her hips a-sway.
I'm taking mental notes:
I'm gonna take it slow & steadily work my way
Into her consciousness
'Till she finally sees me separate from all the fray.

Watch her glasses get fogged up from grease that's on the rise.
(Work it, babygirl, you got the steam into a swirl.)
Check her working that scoop making mountains of those fries.
(Work out, babydoll, this heap of tater's getting tall.)

She don't need no hairnet 'cause she keeps it short-length,
Pops those gumballs & serves Deano Burgers & franks.
Let's start our own Blue Mouth Group. From here to the bank
It's just some 30 seconds to walk, but you can bet
I still have yet
To regret
Not making car payments when she drives me home each night.
Gotta jet!

She knows
Just how to work it, baby,
In camo shorts that come a little too small for her size,
& she knows
Just how to work it, baby,
In worn-out tops that won't quite hide her navel from your eyes,
& she knows
Just how to work it, baby,
It winks right at you like a decimal above her thighs.
I gotta be where you are, babe, 'cause you work it so tight.