Here's the story about the Corvette as I heard it sung by Betsy Rose, who got it from John McCutcheon, who got it from...who swears it might be true. I'll leave in all the 80s references--I heard it at the Puget Sound Guitar Workshop in 1986. If anyone's interested I can probably make a MIDI of the tune as I remember it. Betsy said that John did it as a basic three-chord folksong, but "I can't write a three-chord song to save my life, so I changed it to an Irish a cappella ballad."

A TRUE STORY

One morning while reading the paper, in search of a new set of wheels
The classifieds had such a curious ad, in their listings of automobiles
I read in suspicious amusement what seemed like a wild stroke of luck:
"Corvette Stingray," it said, "low mileage, bright red, '83 model...sixty-five bucks."

Now I was used to my newspaper's typos, still I called up the number straightway
"'Bout that '83 'Vette, have you sold the thing yet?" She said, "No, you're my first call today"
I said, "There's been some mistake in the paper, they've printed the ad wrong somehow"
"Oh, no," replied she, "They got that from me" -- I said, "Don't sell that car, I'm leaving now!"

Well, her address was in a part of the city where I'd wandered just one time or two
Where the doctors, bank presidents and lawyers are residents, and the houses are massive and new
As I drove up her half-a-mile driveway, there in the heat of the day
In the sunlight it gleamed, the car of my dreams -- only sixty-five dollars away

The interior was made of white leather, it had a 487 V-8
Gull wingspan doors, Hurst four on the floor, and the 8-channel tape deck was great
There was chrome on the chrome on the fenders, in an aerodynamic design
A phone, a TV, and it was bogglin' to me how for sixty-five bucks it was mine

Now I suspected the woman was crazy, to be selling the car at this price
But as we walked down the lane she seemed perfectly sane; she was charming and really quite nice
She smiled with such great satisfaction as she handed me title and keys
I said, "I've just got to know why you let this thing go--What's wrong with this car, tell me, please?"

She said, "I'll be sixty come Tuesday, and I've lived here with my husband Earl
After forty years wed, and without a word said, he left me for some young teenage girl
With his credit cards here on the table, I knew that he couldn't go far
Last night from Florida he sent a wire to me, it said, 'I need money, dear....SELL THE CAR!'"

Aloha,
Mark