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It was paint ed red,
the stripe was white, it was (Eb)eight een feet from the bow to stern light.
Sec ond hand
from a (F)deal er in At lan ta, I (Eb)rode up with Dad dy when he went there to get her.
We put on a shine,
put on a mo tor, (Eb)built out of love and made for the wa ter.
Ran her for years till the (F)tran som got rot ten, a (Eb)piece of my child hood that will nev (CN.C.)er be for got ten.
It was
just an old (F)ply wood boat
with a (Eb)sev en ty five John son with e lec tric choke.
A young boy,
two (F)hands on the wheel,
I can’t re place the way it made me feel, and I would turn her sharp and I’d make it whine.
He’d say, “You can’t beat the way an old wood boat rides.”
Just a lit tle lake ’cross the (C7)Al a bam a line, but I was (Eb)king of the o cean
when Dad dy let me
drive.
Just an old half ton (F)short bed Ford my (Eb)un cle bought new in six ty four.
And (Bb)Dad dy got it right, ’cause the (F)en gine was smok ing.
Cou ple of burnt valves and he had it going.
He let me drive her when we’d (F)haul off a load down a (Eb)dirt strip where we’d dump trash off of Thig pen Road.
I’d (Bb)sit up in the seat and stretch my (F)feet out to the ped als, (Eb)smil ing like a he ro that just (CN.C.)re ceived his med al.
It was
just an old (F)hand me down Ford with (Eb)three speed on the col umn and a dent in the door.
A young boy, two (F)hands on the wheel,
I can’t re place the way it made me feel, and I would press that clutch and I’d keep it right, and he’d say, “A lit tle slow er, son, you’re do ing just fine.”
Just a dirt road with (C7)trash on each side, but I was (Eb)Ma ri o An dret ti
when Dad dy let me drive.
I’m grown up now, three (F)daugh ters of my own.
I (Eb)let ’em drive my old jeep ’cross the pas ture at our home.
May be one day they’ll (F)reach back in their file and (Eb)pull (CN.C.)out that old mem ’ry and (Eb)think (CN.C.)of me and smile and say,
“It was just an old (F)worn out jeep,
(Eb)rust y old floor boards,
hot on my feet.
A young girl, two (F)hands on the wheel,
I can’t re place the way it made me feel, and he’d say, ‘Turn it left and steer it right;
(Eb)straight en up, girl, now, you’re do ing just fine.’
Just a lit tle val ley by the (C7)riv er where we’d ride, but I was (Eb)high on a moun tain
when Dad dy let me drive,
when Dad dy let me drive.
Oh, he let me drive.”
She’s just an old (F)ply wood boat
with a (Eb)sev en ty five John son with e lec tric choke.
This page shows “Drive” by Alan Jackson in our color-coded kid songbook view — every note is colored by pitch (red C, orange D, yellow E, green F, blue G, purple A, pink B) and the lyrics sit directly under each note, so children can sing along while they play. The song is in the key of Eb at 100 BPM, a medium-difficulty arrangement — try slowing the tempo down using the BPM control.