Hot Rod Mama
Marc Bolan
Hot rod mama moving
Like a motor cycle devil in a race
Blown out my mind, i can't keep up the pace
I'm selling all my midnight,
Still broke and living on the ground
My gone little mama cut out without a sound
With my greased-up levis,
Baseball boots above my head
If it wasn't such a tragedy i might wish i was dead
She took my ice-cream mustang
And my purple coloured dodeville
She even took my panpipes and my elixir of life pill