American pop is obsessed with cars and girls. It always has been, and you can tell the cars from the girls.
She's ported and relieved
And she's stroked and bored
She'll do a hundred and forty at the top end floored.
That's a car.
When I mash down on your little starter
Your spark gonna give me fire.
That's about a girl.
But when it comes to British bands,
Groovin' on the freeway, gauge is on the red
gun down on my gasoline, believe I'm gonna crack your head
I have no clue. Is that a car or a girl?
(Hell of a performance, though.)