God made the automobile To pass all the pretty girls That smoke by the side of the road Their blues lovin' boys in tow To drive 'til the end of the day And bow a borrowed flag Beside all the brave and the blind And men without men in mind To pass all the things He made But then never bothered to name And no one will tell the truth And no one will hide it from you Like birds around the grave God made the automobile And I made a little boy To pass all the blissfully young, Snake with a forked tongue That preys on the wanting for time And make him the sleepless ways The fear of the black and the jew And blood for the camera crew And passes the things He made And then never bothers to name And no one can tell the truth And no one can hide it from you Like birds around the grave