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The machines of a
dream, such a clean machine,
with the pistons a pumpin', and the hubcaps all gleam,
when I'm holding your wheel,
All I hear is your
gear,
when my hand's on your grease gun,
oh it's like a disease son,
I'm in love with my car. gotta feel for my automobile,
get a grip on my boy racer rollbar,
such a thrill when your radials squeal.
Told my girl I just had
to forget her,
rather boy me a new carburettor,
so she made tracks sayin' this is the end now,
cars don't talk back they're just four wheeled friends now,
