Switchblade 327

written by B. Setzer
 Switchblade 327
 Lit cigarette in his hand
 Steel-toed boots on the accelerator
 Oil leakin' outta the pan
 Switchblade, three two-barrels
 Gettin' there as fast as he can
 All juiced up like a hot carburetor
 Spittin' gas onto the fan
 Blacktop burnout, Saturday night
 Try to catch him if you can
 Switchblade 327
 Switchblade, seven come eleven
 Switchblade, he's all right
 When he gets drunk he fights all night
 Switchblade 327
 Pullin' way ahead of the pack
 Chop top deuce, Saturday night
 Flames shootin' outta the back
 Switchblade, don't cut him off
 He won't cut you no slack
 He'll cut you to ribbons if you come to town
 He'll carve his name in your back
 Blacktop burnout, Saturday night
 Try to catch him if you can
 Switchblade 327
 Switchblade, seven come eleven
 Switchblade, he's all right
 When he gets drunk he fights all night
 Switchblade 327
 Someone was calling his name
 All he could hear was his engine
 And the sound of the pouring down rain
 Switchblade 327
 Ran 125 down the lane
 But someone had cut both his fuel lines
 And the '32 burst into flames
 Blacktop burnout, Saturday night
 Try to catch him if you can
 Switchblade 327
 Switchblade, seven come eleven
 Switchblade, he's all right
 When he gets drunk he fights all night (repeat)