The machine 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 hands 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 radias squeal.
Told my girl I just had to forget her,
Rather buy me a new carburettor,
So she made tracks sayin' this is the end now,
Cars don't talk back they're just four wheeled...
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