My legs are wheelsMy arms are doorsMy head’s a sunroofWhen I’m in my modern disguiseI’ve got the names“Julie” and “Chris”Written on my faceAnd I’ve got headlights for eyesYou wouldn’t recognise meYou wouldn’t recognise meIf you could see me bombing up and down the M63I stand in the car parkWaiting for driversBut no one wants to climb insideI am refused entry to pubsBecause I don’t fit through the doorI’m too wideBut you can come inside meYes, you can come inside mePlease take your boots off, will you?I just paid to have it all cleanedKeep your feet off my upholsteryKeep your feet off my upholsteryPeople victimise meJoyride and vandalise meGood job I’m wearing my protective armour-plated windscreenThere’s a radio in my brainI can pick the cops up on itThey tell me I can do whatever I pleaseI can drive on the right hand sideI can smash through the front of the supermarketI can do whatever I likeI’m a car, not a boat or a plane or a bikeSo you better fill me up with petrolI don’t run on steam, you knowJust strap your belt on and we’ll go, go, goWe’re gonna bomb around townKnocking everybody downI’m a massive limousineI’m a killing machineMy legs are bombsMy arms are gunsMy head’s a bread knifeAnd my brain is made of grenadesI’ve got the words“Satan” and “Shit”Written on my bonnetWhen I’m in my modern disguise
My legs are wheelsMy arms are doorsMy head’s a sunroofWhen I’m in my modern disguiseI’ve got the names“Julie” and “Chris”Written on my faceAnd I’ve got headlights for eyesYou wouldn’t recognise meYou wouldn’t recognise meIf you could see me bombing Up and down the M63I stand in the car parkWaiting for driversBut no one wants to climb insideI am refused entry to pubsBecause I don’t fit through the doorI’m too wideBut you can come inside meYes, you can come inside mePlease take your boots off, will you?I just paid to have it all cleanedKeep your feet off my upholsteryKeep your feet off my upholsteryPeople victimise meJoyride and vandalise meGood job I’m wearing My protective armour-plated windscreenThere’s a radio in my brainI can pick the cops up on itThey tell me I can do whatever I pleaseI can drive on the right hand sideI can smash through the front Of the supermarketI can do whatever I likeI’m a car, not a boat or a plane or a bikeSo you better fill me up with petrolI don’t run on steam, you knowJust strap your belt on and we’ll go, go, goWe’re gonna bomb around townKnocking everybody downI’m a massive limousineI’m a killing machineMy legs are bombsMy arms are gunsMy head’s a bread knifeAnd my brain is made of grenadesI’ve got the words“Satan” and “Shit”Written on my bonnetWhen I’m in my modern disguise