I can see him now, standing on a street corner
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Pastel shades and a candy stripe parallel
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Good time love, oh that I'd been much older
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Go messing with the boys from the incrowd
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But all I could do was wish them farewell
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What's that strange music
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What's that fully rhythm
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They call it Blue Beat, but you can call it young love
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You can call it tamla dream
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Down at your local Motown machine
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I need to be loved
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Down at your Twisted Wheel
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And I can see that little stage
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All the hands up in the air
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Bombers and blues gonna see us through
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Got my new lime suit mohair
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With a single vent sixteen inch
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Got my two-stroke wheels outside
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We only need the High Numbers now
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And anything on stateside
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Down at your Twisted Wheel
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|
-----------------
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Twisted Wheel
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| Chris Rea |
