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 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 buy me a new cartburettor
So she made tracks sayin' ths is the end now
Cars don't talk back they're just four wheeled friends now
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