"Fast car" is kind of a continuation of Bruce Springsteen's "Born to Run." It has all the clawing your way to a better life, but in this case the protagonist never makes it with her love; in fact she is dragged back down by him.
There is still an amazing amount of hope and will in the lyrics; and the lyrics themselve rank and easy five. If only music was stronger it would be one of those great radio songs that you hear once a week 20 years after it was released. The imagery is almost tear-jerking ("City lights lay out before us", "Speeds so fast felt like I was drunk"), and the idea of starting from nothing and just driving and working and denigrating yourself for a chance at being just above poverty, then losing in the end is just painful and inspiring at the same time.
The man with the hair would talk real loud
He made feel proud for not being afraid,
He helped me get over my fear of the dark
And of the unknown in the year of the shark.
We'd meet in secret at the ends of the weeks
And we were friends of the freaks and the misunderstood.
We'd listen to jazz, or go for a drive
And I'm just glad we both were alive
And everyone knew that the giant was john
And no one had heard him once say a bad word.
Some say he's perverted, or maybe a manchild
Just 'cause his imagination ran wild
And what's wrong with that, in a world gone-a-fishing?
You want to run away from a man on a mission.
Wow bob, wow wake up and smell the coffee
Enjoy the scenery and the sounds of machinery.
Me and the man with the hair would compare notes
We both wear boots and drink rootbeer floats.
We told jokes with old people and lit things on fire,
And we all fall down in a small small town.
But now it's dark, and we follow the weird words of murmuring,
Burglars and murderers further than our father figures.
The nasty, ghastly, devious, and blasphemous
Provides a more lasting fascination for us both.
Swimming upstream,
Young men and women are fiending for
Immediate intimacy with no limitiations.
Alas, the skirts don't hide the shadows
Cast by the bare ass on the dancefloor.
Sexual warfare waits in the staircase
And therefore most of them probably
Shouldn't even really be there in the first place.
Unarmed soldiers of lust rub shoulders
With those older and more immature than them,
It's disgusting, yet intruiging to see
Overachieving greasers unleashing themselves
Upon the female species,
Especially when the weather gets warmer and then
The whole entire wardrobe is normally informal.
For your information, the hats are worn backwards
And so are the morals when the girls wear overalls.
It's a sensitive issue involving insecurity
Maturity levels, and lots of toilet tissue 'cause
The girls are desperate,
But the boys are even hornier,
The rose smells sweet
But the stem is even thornier.
It's a match made in purgatory,
What more do you want to know?
The girls get goosebumps and nipples to notice but
No one knows how to communicate it's useless when
Lies are told with closed eyes and
Everybody tries to disguise their own flaws when the guys go,
"we need females and we read details."
It's card tricks and hard dicks
And a beat that goes like "uh uh uh yeah, uh huh uh uh yeah."
The neat part of the meat market apart from the
Darkness and lots of narcotics to me is the hard rocks,
No one needs to be told twice, there's plenty of cold ice,
Just tight pants and old spice who take shots and roll dice.
The carpets are crumby with puke coming out of them.
It's putrid and stupid
Why don't you make a contribution
To the plan-gathering, as a matter fact, word
What do you say, this Thursday?
The girls are desperate,
But the boys are even hornier.
The rose smells sweet
But the stem is even thornier.
It's a match made in purgatory,
What more do you want to know?
It smells like everything inside of the hideout
But I doubt anyone really wants to know why,
Oh my, goodness gracious, the place is basically bulging
With people indulging in, all kinds of fabric,
It's a magical buffet of pheromones and flesh
That defies all logic.
It's just like dodgeball, but instead of a ball
The contestants throw around the head of a doll
And I don't know what it means,
But it makes it worth the cost alone,
Even with the overflowing load of testosterone.
The sexual appetites are salty, it's a circus,
The circuits are faulty, and everybody's uptight
With sweat stains and jet planes and hot rod love songs,
Blistering kisses for every mister and misses,
In the same of time it takes for you to make a sandwich, love,
You can probably find someone for you to take advantage of.
'Cause the girls are desperate,
But the boys are even hornier.
The rose smells sweet
But the stem is even thornier.
It's a match made in purgatory,
What more do you want to know?
My long lost best friend was born to be wild,
When I was a kid, I conformed to his style.
Be-boy deluxe from yankees to canucks
With connects and contacts, and always came correct.
Exact him, except he was easily distracted by sleaziness,
Even when we should've been practicing
Because back when we had peach fuzz
He was freaking out each weekend.
And speaking of waiting for the end of the world,
He befriended a girl with a heart made of glass
And was afraid to ask if he was
Falling in love, falling asleep, falling apart, or all the above.
He was a fling, and she was his weakness,
Kissing his cheeks and playing with his paychecks.
At breakneck speed he was heading for a dead end,
Pretending he was healthy and defending himself,
He would always exaggerate and use his imagination.
Waiting for someone to say "congratulations,"
But I wasn't exactly happy for him, actually
After turning his back to me gradually.
I call it a tragedy, watching him disappear,
This year it's crystal clear, listen here
Stop this crazy thing, you're all dressed up,
With nowhere to go, and your head's all messed up
He made feel proud for not being afraid,
He helped me get over my fear of the dark
And of the unknown in the year of the shark.
We'd meet in secret at the ends of the weeks
And we were friends of the freaks and the misunderstood.
We'd listen to jazz, or go for a drive
And I'm just glad we both were alive
And everyone knew that the giant was john
And no one had heard him once say a bad word.
Some say he's perverted, or maybe a manchild
Just 'cause his imagination ran wild
And what's wrong with that, in a world gone-a-fishing?
You want to run away from a man on a mission.
Wow bob, wow wake up and smell the coffee
Enjoy the scenery and the sounds of machinery.
Me and the man with the hair would compare notes
We both wear boots and drink rootbeer floats.
We told jokes with old people and lit things on fire,
And we all fall down in a small small town.
But now it's dark, and we follow the weird words of murmuring,
Burglars and murderers further than our father figures.
The nasty, ghastly, devious, and blasphemous
Provides a more lasting fascination for us both.
Swimming upstream,
Young men and women are fiending for
Immediate intimacy with no limitiations.
Alas, the skirts don't hide the shadows
Cast by the bare ass on the dancefloor.
Sexual warfare waits in the staircase
And therefore most of them probably
Shouldn't even really be there in the first place.
Unarmed soldiers of lust rub shoulders
With those older and more immature than them,
It's disgusting, yet intruiging to see
Overachieving greasers unleashing themselves
Upon the female species,
Especially when the weather gets warmer and then
The whole entire wardrobe is normally informal.
For your information, the hats are worn backwards
And so are the morals when the girls wear overalls.
It's a sensitive issue involving insecurity
Maturity levels, and lots of toilet tissue 'cause
The girls are desperate,
But the boys are even hornier,
The rose smells sweet
But the stem is even thornier.
It's a match made in purgatory,
What more do you want to know?
The girls get goosebumps and nipples to notice but
No one knows how to communicate it's useless when
Lies are told with closed eyes and
Everybody tries to disguise their own flaws when the guys go,
"we need females and we read details."
It's card tricks and hard dicks
And a beat that goes like "uh uh uh yeah, uh huh uh uh yeah."
The neat part of the meat market apart from the
Darkness and lots of narcotics to me is the hard rocks,
No one needs to be told twice, there's plenty of cold ice,
Just tight pants and old spice who take shots and roll dice.
The carpets are crumby with puke coming out of them.
It's putrid and stupid
Why don't you make a contribution
To the plan-gathering, as a matter fact, word
What do you say, this Thursday?
The girls are desperate,
But the boys are even hornier.
The rose smells sweet
But the stem is even thornier.
It's a match made in purgatory,
What more do you want to know?
It smells like everything inside of the hideout
But I doubt anyone really wants to know why,
Oh my, goodness gracious, the place is basically bulging
With people indulging in, all kinds of fabric,
It's a magical buffet of pheromones and flesh
That defies all logic.
It's just like dodgeball, but instead of a ball
The contestants throw around the head of a doll
And I don't know what it means,
But it makes it worth the cost alone,
Even with the overflowing load of testosterone.
The sexual appetites are salty, it's a circus,
The circuits are faulty, and everybody's uptight
With sweat stains and jet planes and hot rod love songs,
Blistering kisses for every mister and misses,
In the same of time it takes for you to make a sandwich, love,
You can probably find someone for you to take advantage of.
'Cause the girls are desperate,
But the boys are even hornier.
The rose smells sweet
But the stem is even thornier.
It's a match made in purgatory,
What more do you want to know?
My long lost best friend was born to be wild,
When I was a kid, I conformed to his style.
Be-boy deluxe from yankees to canucks
With connects and contacts, and always came correct.
Exact him, except he was easily distracted by sleaziness,
Even when we should've been practicing
Because back when we had peach fuzz
He was freaking out each weekend.
And speaking of waiting for the end of the world,
He befriended a girl with a heart made of glass
And was afraid to ask if he was
Falling in love, falling asleep, falling apart, or all the above.
He was a fling, and she was his weakness,
Kissing his cheeks and playing with his paychecks.
At breakneck speed he was heading for a dead end,
Pretending he was healthy and defending himself,
He would always exaggerate and use his imagination.
Waiting for someone to say "congratulations,"
But I wasn't exactly happy for him, actually
After turning his back to me gradually.
I call it a tragedy, watching him disappear,
This year it's crystal clear, listen here
Stop this crazy thing, you're all dressed up,
With nowhere to go, and your head's all messed up
Add your thoughts
Log in now to tell us what you think this song means.
Don’t have an account? Create an account with SongMeanings to post comments, submit lyrics, and more. It’s super easy, we promise!
More Featured Meanings
Fast Car
Tracy Chapman
Tracy Chapman
Cajun Girl
Little Feat
Little Feat
Overall about difficult moments of disappointment and vulnerability. Having hope and longing, while remaining optimistic for the future. Encourages the belief that with each new morning there is a chance for things to improve.
The chorus offers a glimmer of optimism and a chance at a resolution and redemption in the future.
Captures the rollercoaster of emotions of feeling lost while loving someone who is not there for you, feeling let down and abandoned while waiting for a lover. Lost with no direction, "Now I'm up in the air with the rain in my hair, Nowhere to go, I can go anywhere"
The bridge shows signs of longing and a plea for companionship. The Lyrics express a desire for authentic connection and the importance of Loving someone just as they are. "Just in passing, I'm not asking. That you be anyone but you”
Gentle Hour
Yo La Tengo
Yo La Tengo
This song was originally written by a guy called Peter Gutteridge. He was one of the founders of the "Dunedin Sound" a musical scene in the south of New Zealand in the early 80s. From there it was covered by "The Clean" one of the early bands of that scene (he had originally been a member of in it's early days, writing a couple of their best early songs). The Dunedin sound, and the Clean became popular on american college radio in the mid to late 80s. I guess Yo La Tengo heard that version.
Great version of a great song,
I Can't Go To Sleep
Wu-Tang Clan
Wu-Tang Clan
This song is written as the perspective of the boys in the street, as a whole, and what path they are going to choose as they get older and grow into men. (This is why the music video takes place in an orphanage.) The seen, and unseen collective suffering is imbedded in the boys’ mind, consciously or subconsciously, and is haunting them. Which path will the boys choose? Issac Hayes is the voice of reason, maybe God, the angel on his shoulder, or the voice of his forefathers from beyond the grave who can see the big picture and are pleading with the boys not to continue the violence and pattern of killing their brothers, but to rise above. The most beautiful song and has so many levels. Racism towards African Americans in America would not exist if everyone sat down and listened to this song and understood the history behind the words. The power, fear, pleading in RZA and Ghostface voices are genuine and powerful. Issac Hayes’ strong voice makes the perfect strong father figure, who is possibly from beyond the grave.
Punchline
Ed Sheeran
Ed Sheeran
Ed Sheeran sings about missing his former partner and learning important life lessons in the process on “Punchline.” This track tells a story of battling to get rid of emotions for a former lover, whom he now realized might not have loved him the same way. He’s now caught between accepting that fact and learning life lessons from it and going back to beg her for another chance.