His name may be Datsun, but with those ears and that expression, he just makes me think of a train–maybe the Number 9 or the Georgia Main in Hank Williams’s “Lonesome Whistle.”
I was riding number nine
Heading south from Caroline
I heard that lonesome whistle blow
Got in trouble, had to roam
Left my friends, left my home
I heard that lonesome whistle blow
Oh, Datsun, you silly boy, you’re not going to end up in a Georgia jail locked away from your gal. Your Colorado song will be a happy one.