"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.
You turn to the sinister when you get the boot
Sliding down the banister in your Sunday suit
Lying on a slag heap of blankets and magazines
She's only thirty-five going on seventeen
You'd better roll over and go to sleep if you don't come clean
And in every home there will be lots of time
I will be all yours you might have been admired
And in every home there will be lots of time
They say they're very sorry but you are not desired
Oh heaven preserve us
Oh heaven preserve us
Oh heaven preserve us
Because they don't deserve us
Holding your life in your hand
With an artificial limp wrist
And so a young blade becomes a has-been
Looking for a new twist
A year after the wedding he broke all their china plates
He's in prison now she's running with his mates
Sees him every Sunday
And he asks her where she's been
She's only thirty-five going on seventeen
She's going to cop a packet if he ever finds her
In between the sheets
And in every home there will be lots of time
I will be all yours you might have been admired
And in every home there will be lots of time
They say they're very sorry but you are not desired
Oh heaven preserve us
Oh heaven preserve us
Oh heaven preserve us
Because they don't deserve us
And in every home there will be lots of time
I will be all yours you might have been admired
Oh heaven preserve us
Oh heaven preserve us
Oh heaven preserve us
Because they don't deserve us
And in every home
And in every home
And in every home
And in every home
Sliding down the banister in your Sunday suit
Lying on a slag heap of blankets and magazines
She's only thirty-five going on seventeen
You'd better roll over and go to sleep if you don't come clean
And in every home there will be lots of time
I will be all yours you might have been admired
And in every home there will be lots of time
They say they're very sorry but you are not desired
Oh heaven preserve us
Oh heaven preserve us
Oh heaven preserve us
Because they don't deserve us
Holding your life in your hand
With an artificial limp wrist
And so a young blade becomes a has-been
Looking for a new twist
A year after the wedding he broke all their china plates
He's in prison now she's running with his mates
Sees him every Sunday
And he asks her where she's been
She's only thirty-five going on seventeen
She's going to cop a packet if he ever finds her
In between the sheets
And in every home there will be lots of time
I will be all yours you might have been admired
And in every home there will be lots of time
They say they're very sorry but you are not desired
Oh heaven preserve us
Oh heaven preserve us
Oh heaven preserve us
Because they don't deserve us
And in every home there will be lots of time
I will be all yours you might have been admired
Oh heaven preserve us
Oh heaven preserve us
Oh heaven preserve us
Because they don't deserve us
And in every home
And in every home
And in every home
And in every home
Lyrics submitted by SongMeanings
...and in Every Home Lyrics as written by Elvis Costello
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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