She got a candy red Cadillac
Coupe DeVille
Great big house
On a great big hill
Big time needs
Big time friends
She wear you flat out
Then start all over again
She's a fast girl

She got a high tone way
Of gettin’ real low down
Sometime she screams
Sometime she don’t make a sound
She got homegrown tomatoes
Ripe on the vine
Gently takes your hand
Then drags you over the line

She’s a fast girl
You can see it in her face
In the way she moves
She’s all over the place
Body in motion...Brain in a whirl
No bout a doubt it...She's a fast girl

She got big red lips—She give real good phone
Big pointed breasts filled with silicone
Never automatic—She got manual drive
Know how to crash and burn and come through alive
She's a fast girl

She’s a midwest fundemental
Grew up in church
A Catholic girl
On a lifelong search
For some kind of meaning
That’s big and fast
Don’t need it deep
Don’t need it to last

Martinis and the smell of cigar smoke
Hanging in the air 'till you’re ready to choke...
On life itself-Future and past
As long as it’s big-As long as it’s fast
She's a fast girl

no bout a doubt it...she's a mell of a hess

© 2000 Fast Girl Music & Big Whistle Publishing & Pan Man Music (BMI)