I met a little girl and I settled down
In a little house out on the edge of town
We got married, and swore we'd never part
Then little by little we drifted from each other's heart
At first I thought it was just restlessness
That would fade as time went by and our love grew deep
In the end it was something more I guess
That tore us apart and made us weep
And I'm driving a stolen car
Down on Eldridge Avenue
Each night I wait to get caught
But I never do
She asked if I remembered the letters I wrote
When our love was young and bold
She said last night she read those letters
And they made her feel one hundred years old
And I'm driving a stolen car
On a pitch black night
And I'm telling myself I'm gonna be alright
But I ride by night and I travel in fear
That in this darkness I will disappear
One of the most haunting cuts off The River, a very soft
song, characterized by Roy's piano. Played during The River
tour and half a dozen times during the Born In The USA
tour. Soundchecked in both the Tunnel Of Love and Reunion
tours. This song was first known as SON YOU MAY KISS THE BRIDE. It evolved from take to take till it became
STOLEN CAR that was published on The River. One of the early
takes was published on Tracks under the name STOLEN CAR.
Was a B-side of HUNGRY HEART in 1980 in Argentina, Brazil, and
Mexico.
Covered by Patty Griffin on her album 1000 Kisses.
I first heard this long version of "Stolen Car" on a bootleg of Bruce outtakes called (I think)
Son You May Kiss The Bride, and the song just haunted me for some time after so I started fooling
around with it during soundchecks in Europe, which is where I live and mostly perform these days. So often,
I'd be out there on the road alone covering the distance between shows in sleepy trains or speeding rental
cars and like most songwriters passing those lost hours in my own private world, not really depressed but
just, you know, sort of existing until the next show and trying not to worry too much about that other world I
had left at home in Paris, the world of my wife and son, anxious that it would all be there when I returned.
And "Stolen Car" so perfectly reflected all of that and (as great songs do) it often helped to
release me from the bonds of my own emotional prison. So pretty soon it became as cherished a member of my
repertoire as any as of my own songs.
You see, Bruce and I were born nearly equidistant from New York - him in New Jersey and me out on Long
Island - and at one point we seemed to have shared a similar alienation from the suburban landscape we should
have by all rights felt so at home in. Maybe Bruce conquered his demons by embracing them in his songs, but my
own tendency was to keep moving, running as far away as I could until finally I reached that no man's land
where I find myself today, that of an expatriate, in a place I can finally call home. Many times when I sing
that line about "...driving a stolen car on a pitch black night... telling myself everything's gonna be
alright" it has nearly brought the tears to my eyes - but not tears of sadness, just those of a
soulmate's identification with a beautiful, undeniable truth: that life is for all of us at some time just
like a ride in a stolen car, same thrills, same fear, same loneliness. It is a testament of Bruce's genius
that he is able to carry home such profound truths in such everyday images as these. And for that I will
always be grateful to him.
