"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.
Let's get the fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck out of here!
Let's get the fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck out of here!
Let's get the fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck out of here!
Don't test the captain's validity or his vulnerability.
I've seen the necks unnaturally twisted, craned to stars in the sky.
I've felt the chill upend the happiness of idiots in minutes;
they clutch their jewelry tight and say "How lucky am I!"
And like a drunk spills boons on his varsity letter,
can we forgive a ship of fools for what they don't know better?
I guess not.
"Man I hope he'll piss himself."
Analyze this room.
Grab that mop and broom and clean it up.
Man I hope he shits himself
when the rest of the shipwrecked long drowned in their graves
make a claim on the souls of the heartless fakes.
"Please help, my party flew away with the ocean mist.
I narrowly escaped to the roof."
But when the Night Rangers found me (dead, but for my liver)
and said "Don't tell me you love me", abhorrent and deliberate.
How we ruined the day's remains. Sinful.
A hero's humility is a foolish amenity.
Cups of coffee speed the heartbeats of the soonest to die.
I saw the first blood in the water, someone's mother or daughter.
I wait for troutman; Give me clearance for this chopper to fly.
Cause they were jumping off the backs of only sons,
offering up light snacks of younger ones.
"Well, how fast could our legs run?"
Let's get the fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck out of here!
The weak are screaming for the captain but the captain ain't here.
How we ruined the day's remains. Sinful.
The bodies splashed like paint.
To see so many scattered cockroaches running from the light.
Oh, when I saw them floating out to the river,
the cold inside my stomach was a hunger to me.
And if the devil makes a mess of all the raw meat,
Let him be.
Oh how my captain sailed it straight up the middle,
but the crooked lines are quicker when you're snorting them in.
Because if the devil's at your door you leave it open.
Let him in.
Let's get the fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck out of here!
Let's get the fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck out of here!
Don't test the captain's validity or his vulnerability.
I've seen the necks unnaturally twisted, craned to stars in the sky.
I've felt the chill upend the happiness of idiots in minutes;
they clutch their jewelry tight and say "How lucky am I!"
And like a drunk spills boons on his varsity letter,
can we forgive a ship of fools for what they don't know better?
I guess not.
"Man I hope he'll piss himself."
Analyze this room.
Grab that mop and broom and clean it up.
Man I hope he shits himself
when the rest of the shipwrecked long drowned in their graves
make a claim on the souls of the heartless fakes.
"Please help, my party flew away with the ocean mist.
I narrowly escaped to the roof."
But when the Night Rangers found me (dead, but for my liver)
and said "Don't tell me you love me", abhorrent and deliberate.
How we ruined the day's remains. Sinful.
A hero's humility is a foolish amenity.
Cups of coffee speed the heartbeats of the soonest to die.
I saw the first blood in the water, someone's mother or daughter.
I wait for troutman; Give me clearance for this chopper to fly.
Cause they were jumping off the backs of only sons,
offering up light snacks of younger ones.
"Well, how fast could our legs run?"
Let's get the fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck out of here!
The weak are screaming for the captain but the captain ain't here.
How we ruined the day's remains. Sinful.
The bodies splashed like paint.
To see so many scattered cockroaches running from the light.
Oh, when I saw them floating out to the river,
the cold inside my stomach was a hunger to me.
And if the devil makes a mess of all the raw meat,
Let him be.
Oh how my captain sailed it straight up the middle,
but the crooked lines are quicker when you're snorting them in.
Because if the devil's at your door you leave it open.
Let him in.
Lyrics submitted by azthet1k
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Fast Car
Tracy Chapman
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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,
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