Through air runnin',
One hell of a fast cruise.
Ain't no leadfoot clown
In his Mercury shoes.
He is crazy fast, this Mercury--
News from him has just showed.
He can fly, this guy Mercury;
Sometimes past Jupiter he's blowed,
And that's called a goad.

The gals Jupiter loved. . .
He'd call up his fast friend,
Say, "Got a message I want to send."
And so he posted it through Mercury. . .
Dude needs no stinkin' road
With no slinkin' toad.
He said, "Send it posthaste, Mercury!"
'cause once he starts, he can't be slowed.

"Hey, now, mama!"
Starts the note. Ain't right--
This airborne clown
Reads private notes, in flight.
"My sweet honey,
I'd relish loving you!"

Messenger looks down:
Lost his Mercury shoes.
Now he's out of gas, this Mercury.
News is bad: toward a road
Heads once fly-high guy, Mercury,
Who lands flat and squashes a toad,
Too heavy a load

Well, goin' by is a Mercury
That's cruisin' down this country road,
Down this country road.

Well, he isn't shy, not Mercury;
That's why he's an eponym. He
Sticks his thumb out, and mercy me!
Gets a ride in the Mercury.
He's cruisin' down the road.
Jupiter. . .fuse blowed.