In summer '63 I was staying alive Hanging at the races, hoping to drive When they were done with the weekend and loading the cars I couldn't get a pass so I went to the bar I'm up in the corner nursing a beer Who should come laughing and joking in here But Bobby Borwn, the winer of the sports car race With some friends and a girl, man, she lit up the place Bobby was a wild boy, one summer He knocked down a motel wall with a hammer He'd do anything, one night for a bet He raced through the cornfields in a Corvette I thought it's got to be a thrill to be like that With the beautiful girl and be king of the track But the truth is when all was said and done It was his Cobra I wanted, the car was the one It was his Cobra I wanted, the car was the one The car was the one, the car was the one