They say the Cheyenne were partial to Chryslers
For the Chrysler is a well-traveling car
Tolerant of abuse
And virulent of fright[?]
And the Cheyenne were people of the far horizon
Always on the move
War-pawning[?] it up
Chasing the buffalo
And the good times
Running north to see their cousin, the Sioux
And south again when the welcome wore out
Spring and fall, off they go
The whole nation packed into [?] of 500 Newports
Generally white four-door models
Gussied up with war paint
Zig-zagged on the fenders
The back seats piled high with tepee skins, large bowls Firewood, squalling kids, pemmican
All that Cheyenne caboodle rolling along
On big, underinflated whitewall tires
Riding shotgun, skirts hiked up
Dirty toes propped on the dashboard
The women suckled babies
And fooled with the radios
While the braves up and downshifted
Jockeying for position
Each one of them as handsome as Elvis Presley
Before he got all weird
And fat
And Vegas
Chrysler after Chrysler
Sliding through the grass
Under a sky that went blue
All the way to Canada
Blue, All the Way to Canada was written by Maureen Tucker.