The electricity which is good to me,
paint the grease
I in the road that the mother can do
There is no trick
As for the flow of S,
The mother, me who permits the fact
that I do that entirely your gas,
the mother permitted thing with the pump
As for me all night to work it is possible
that under your hood the heavy metal is large
the baby, the mountain
where the tube is left
is covered being really made with style
special is I
who permit the fact that it enjoys tradition,
the mother and my eye
The factory wind which has air-conditioning
and heating starts rising,
it is guaranteed because mother many times
move and the brand-new highway,
the flame of the road
in the future beats
the head of my gasoline
your hair, it has gone
it can adjust me and being able
I make wonder is done in me,
feather-light coil exactly the grasp of light
I’m so tired of seeing the door.
