Hot Rod Mama Lyrics - 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 

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