A I met my love at the end of the line. E She was sittin' in hers; I was sittin' in mine. A D We were waitin' for gas out Santa Monica way. A E A It was beginnin' to look like it would take all day.
We were fated to meet and I can show you how.
Our licence plates were both even, and we both said, "Oh, wow!"
We were inchin' forward; we continued to chat.
We both turned out to be Pisces - can you imagine that!
Though she answered to Bambi, her folks had named her Ruth.
Her licence plate was so humble - it simply said "For Truth".
She had a Malibu suntan from her head to her feet.
I found her gorgeous; she said I was neat.
We were inchin' forward - half a mile to go.
The pace of love went faster; the wait for gas was slow.
I said this crisis was gettin' me down;
Bambi said she was countin' on Jerry Brown.
Jerry Brown was her hero, Bambi thought he was cool.
I replied, "I can hear you! He is nobody's fool.
He knows about music; he knows about grass;
You talk about Jerry, you're talkin' gas."
We finally got to the gas pump, Bambi got her gas.
To me they said, "Sorry, but that was the last."
I blush to remember, but I confess that I cried.
As Bambi seemed to grow cooler, my engine sputtered and died.
The last I saw of my true love, she was pullin' away.
She said she would see me, we'd take a meetin' someday.
Goodbye to my Bambi! There's a tear in my eye.
I'll remember forever the day the pumps went dry.
(Words and music by Tom Paxton, 1980)
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