There is considerable debate about the actual
authorship of this song, with partisans leaning to Marrs, Cromarty
and Rush (the Goldcoast Singers), and to old revival-tent
spirituals. It being impossible to tie it
down,
I received a couple of notes from Ed Rush. I have
posted them below.
Not sure who has added to the
following version George Cromarty
and Ed Rush and Others
Plastic Jesus
I don't care if
it rains of freezes 'Long as I got my Plastic Jesus Riding on
the dashboard of my car.
Through my
trials and tribulations And my travels through the
nations With my Plastic Jesus I'll go far. Plastic Jesus!
Plastic Jesus, Riding on the dashboard of my
car
I'm afraid He'll
have to go. His magnets ruin my radio And if I have a wreck
He'll leave a scar. Riding down a thoroughfare With His nose
up in the air, A wreck may be ahead, but He don't
mind.
Trouble coming
He don't see, He just keeps His eye on me And any other thing
that lies behind. Plastic Jesus! Plastic Jesus, Riding on the
dashboard of my car ...
Though the
sunshine on His back Make Him peel, chip and crack, A little
patching keeps Him up to par. When I'm in a traffic jam He
don't care if I say "damn" I can let all my curses
roll
Plastic Jesus
doesn't hear 'Cause he has a plastic ear The man who invented
plastic saved my soul. Plastic Jesus! Plastic Jesus, Riding on
the dashboard of my car ...
Once His robe
was snowy white, Now it isn't quite so bright - Stained by the
smoke of my cigar. If I weave around at night, And policemen
think I'm tight, They never find my bottle - though they
ask.
Plastic Jesus
shelters me, For His head comes off, you see He's hollow, and
I use Him for a flask. Plastic Jesus! Plastic
Jesus,
Riding on the
dashboard of my car ... Ride with me and have a dram Of the
blood of the Lamb - Plastic Jesus is a holy
bar.
Plastic Jesus has become quite entrenched in the folk
tradition, so there are considerably more folk verses than there
were original ones. Following are folk additions and emendations, as
well as additions from recording artists who have covered this
song.
Well, I don't
care if it rains or freezes, Long as I have my plastic
Jesus Riding on the dashboard of my car
I could go a
hundred miles an hour Long as I got the Almighty Power Glued
up there with my pair of fuzzy dice {Refrain - repeat between
every verse} Plastic Jesus, plastic Jesus Riding on the
dashboard of my car
Through all
trials and tribulations, We will travel every nation, With my
plastic Jesus I'll go far. I don't care if it rains or
freezes As long as I've got my Plastic Jesus Glued to the
dashboard of my car,
You can buy Him
phosphorescent Glows in the dark, He's Pink and Pleasant, Take
Him with you when you're travelling far
I don't care if
it's dark or scary Long as I have magnetic Mary Ridin' on the
dashboard of my car
I feel I'm
protected amply I've got the whole damn Holy Family Riding on
the dashboard of my car
You can buy a
Sweet Madonna Dressed in rhinestones sitting on a Pedestal of
abalone shell
Goin' ninety,
I'm not wary 'Cause I've got my Virgin Mary Guaranteeing I
won't go to Hell
I don't care
what they say, I'm gonna Keep on prayin' to that pink
madonna Melted to the dashboard of my
car.
I don't care if
it bumps or jostles Long as I got the Twelve Apostles Bolted
to the dashboard of my car
Don't I have a
pious mess Such a crowd of holiness Strung across the
dashboard of my car
No, I don't care
if it rains or freezes Long as I have my plastic Jesus Riding
on the dashboard of my car
But I think
he'll have to go His magnet ruins my radio And if we have a
wreck he'll leave a scar
Riding through
the thoroughfare With his nose up in the air A wreck may be
ahead, but he don't mind
Trouble coming,
he don't see He just keeps his eyes on me And any other thing
that lies behind {as refrain}
Plastic Jesus,
Plastic Jesus Riding on the dashboard of my car Though the sun
shines on his back Makes him peel, chip, and crack A little
patching keeps him up to par
When pedestrians
try to cross I let them know who's boss I never blow my horn
or give them warning
I ride all over
town Trying to run them down And it's seldom that they live to
see the morning {as refrain} Plastic Jesus, Plastic
Jesus Riding on the dashboard of my car
His halo fits
just right And I use it as a sight And they'll scatter or
they'll splatter near and far
When I'm in a
traffic jam He don't care if I say Damn I can let all sorts of
curses roll Plastic Jesus doesn't hear For he has a plastic
ear The man who invented plastic saved my soul {as
refrain} Plastic Jesus, Plastic Jesus Riding on the dashboard
of my car
Once his robe
was snowy white Now it isn't quite so bright Stained by the
smoke of my cigar
God made Christ
a Holy Jew God made Him a Christian too Paradoxes populate my
car
Joseph beams
with a feigned elan From the shaggy dash of my furlined
van Famous cuckold in the master plan
Naughty Mary,
smug and smiling Jesus dainty and beguiling Knee-deep in the
piling of my van
His message
clear by night or day My phosphorescent plastic Gay Simpering
from the dashboard of my van
When I'm goin'
fornicatin I got my ceramic Satan Sinnin' on the dashboard of
my Winnebago Motor Home
The women know
I'm on the level Thanks to the wild-eyed stoneware
devil Ridin' on the dashboard of my Winnebago Motor
Home Sneerin' from the dashboard of my Winnebago Motor
Home Leering from the dashboard of my
van
I don't care if
I'm broke or starvin' As long as I've got a fish named
Darwin Glued to the trunklid of my car
God, I'm feeling
so evolved Drivin' with my problems solved Proclaiming what I
think of what we are
Riding home one
foggy night, With my honey cuddled tight, I missed a curve and
off the road we veered.
My windshield
got smashed-up good, And my darling graced the hood. Plastic
Jesus, He had disappeared. {As refrain} Plastic Jesus! Plastic
Jesus, No longer chides me with His holy
grin.
Doctors in the
X-ray room Found Him in my darling's womb. Someday, He'll be
born again!
I don't care if
it rains or freezes Long as I got my plastic Jesus Riding on
the dashboard of my car
He's the dude
with the rusty nails, Walks on water, don't need no
sails Riding on the dashboard of me car
I don't care if
the night is scary As long as I got the Virgin Mary Sittin' on
the dashboard of my car.
She don't slip
and she don't slide Cuz her ass is magnetized Sittin' on the
dashboard of my car.
Got this from Ed Rush Just
came across your site and thought you'd be interested in the origins
of "Plastic Jesus". George Cromarty and I wrote this infamous song
when we were high school students in Fresno, California in 1957. We
both ended up at a college in Monterey, California and, for spare
change, started singing folk songs and original political and social
satire (usual closing with Plastic Jesus, which developed into as
much a comedy routine as a song)in coffee houses around Monterey and
Carmel, most often at Kalisa's, a lively place on Cannery Row.
People seemed to respond so we called ourselves The Goldcoast
Singers and took off in a VW Beetle to storm the budding folk music
circuit of the early 1960's. We played folk clubs in LA and San
Francisco (six months at the Purple Onion in North Beach, replacing
the Smothers Brothers who'd gone off to fame and fortune) and we
spent two years on the road, playing over 100 college concerts and
all sorts of coffeehouses and clubs all over the US and Canada.
Kenneth Rexroth, the beat poet, wrote glowing reviews in the San
Francisco papers and we actually developed a kind of following. We
also recorded an album, "Here They Are: The Goldcoast Singers" for
World Pacific/Pacific Jazz , partly recorded live at a concert at
San Francisco State. We not only wrote the song (registered with
ASCAP-and yes, I still get small royalty checks) but we sure did
spread it around. Our record got a lot of air play at the time
(particularly in the Chicago market), but the record company had
financial problems and couldn't fill orders fast enough. Also, its
hard to imagine now just how outrageous this stuff was in 1962.
Audience reactions sometimes verged on violence. George was drafted
into the army in November of 1963 and we played our last gig in a
folk club in Victoria, British Columbia the night of November 22,
1963 - we had a hard time being funny that night. Anyway, I never
heard of this guy Marrs, but if he says he wrote this song...you
might set him straight. cheers, Ed
Rush
Dear Rev, Thanks for
righting a wrong (as one might expect from a man of God)- the
only thing is that we sure didn't write all the many verses that
you've included on your site. As I remember we only wrote (in
addition to the chorus) " You can buy a sweet Madonna/ dressed
in rhinestones sittin' on a /pedestal of abalone shell/drivin'
ninety I'm not wary /'cause I've got my Virgin Mary /guaranteeing
I won't go to hell." Along with the chorus that's really the only
actual verse that we sang. The song developed from listening to
a radio station in Del Rio, Texas when I was about 12. My best
friend had a war surplus radio setup with a big antenna and on
summer nights (TV had not yet arrived in Fresno, California) we
spent a lot of time trying to bring in radio stations from as far
away as possible. Thats how we discovered XERB (I think
those were the call letters) broadcasting from a very powerful
transmitter across the border in Mexico. The station belonged to
a Del Rio dentist and religious fanatic and they sold the most
outrageous stuff imaginable, all with magical healing properties.
One particularly egregious divine exhorted listeners to "LAY
YORE HAND ON THE RAAD-EE-o IF YOU FEEL THE HEAT YOU'LL BE
HEEEAALED!" This was followed by an appeal for contributions and
a list of crypto-religious items for sale, including a
glow-in-the-dark Jesus with a suction cup base to attach to your
dashboard. This item was guaranteed to protect the buyer from
death on the highway. Another show included a hillbilly
backup group that sang, among other ditties I've
now mercifully forgotten, a song that
included, "....something..something..something..leaning on
the arms of Jesus, wrapped in the bosom of the Lord..." At the
time it seemed so funny that we started changing it a bit and
(with lots of gigglig) making up other words to the song, working
in the suction-cup Jesus statue..and eventually ended up with a
whole routine. So that's the true story of Plastic Jesus.
Irreverent teenagers with no respect laughing themselves silly
in a dusty California town on hot summer nights in the middle
1950's.
cheers, Ed Rush

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