High Test Love

You're like an old corvette that just won't start
You got a beautiful body and a cold, cold heart
I wanna find your key, get inside
Turn you on, take you out for ride

I need a blow torch to melt you
I got a wrench in my hand to fan belt you
A crowbar for the lips, that I'm gonna kiss
Just as soon as I can turn you around
You're a work of art, but not for display
You say you wanna cruise, honey that's ok
You don't need repair, just tender care
So here's a gallon of High Test Love:

I got my pair of pliars and my philips head
I wanna tune you up, you're acting half dead
With my hands on your wheel, you can't turn me down
All four tires won't touch the ground