See, the model number on the Matchbox is old and faded
She’s living in L.A. with my best old ex-XJ
A car she said she knew well and sometimes hated

Isn’t that the way they say it goes? Well, let’s forget all that
And give me the model number if you can find it
So I can call just to tell ‘em I’m fine and to show
I’ve overcome the blown headgaskets, I’ve learned to take it well
I only wish my words could just convince myself
That it just wasn’t a bad deal, but that’s not the way it feels