Out on the fast and free way,
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humming along through a build-up ad-man's dream.
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Streaking past in a cloud of spray
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goes the high-performance motor queen.
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And she looks round at me
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reflecting neon in her motoreyes.
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And now the chase is on.
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I know who'll be the loser --- me.
|
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See the end curve coming, then we're
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back on the street through the late theater crowds.
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And the stop lights go and we're cruising side by side
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still humming loud.
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And she looks round again ---
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her motoreyes going to tell me when.
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Put her right foot to the floor.
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Shows me she's no slow woman.
|
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She takes her cafe noir, smokes small cigars
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showing just a touch of thigh (sigh!).
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And sips her whisky straight, and she stays up late
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to kiss the morning bye-bye.
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Now we're out of town, going to shake her down
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if I can stay along.
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Got my blue light on, put her in the net
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with my siren song.
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Pulls over to the side ---
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her motoreyes are staring wide.
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She flashes her I.D.
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and makes a bigger fool of me.
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|
-----------------
|
Motoreyes
|
| Jethro Tull |
