℗ 2001
(Taylor)
The machine of a dream, such a clean machine, With the pistons a pumpin', and the hubcaps all gleam. When I'm holding your wheel, All I hear is your gear, When my hand's on your grease gun, Oh it's like a disease son, I'm in love with my car, gotta feel for my automobile, Get a grip on my boy racer rollbar, Such a thrill when your radials squeal. Told my girl I just had to forget her, Rather buy me a new cartburettor, So she made tracks sayin' ths is the end now, Cars don't talk back they're just four wheeled friends now, When I'm holding your wheel, All I hear is your gear, When I'm cruisin' in overdrive, Don't have to listen to no run of the mill talk jive, I'm in love with my car, gotta feel for my automobile, I'm in love with my car, string back gloves in my automolove!
(Brian May)
A hand above the water An angel reaching for the sky Is it raining in Heaven - Do you want us to cry? And everywhere the broken-hearted On every lonely avenue No-one could reach them No-one but you One by one Only the Good die young They're only flyin' too close to the sun And iife goes on - Without you... Another Tricky Situation I get to drownin' in the Blues And I find myself thinkin' Well - what would you do? Yes! - it was such an operation Forever paying every due Hell, you made a sensation You found a way through - and One by one Only the Good die young They're only flyin' too close to the sun We'll remember - Forever... And now the party must be over I guess we'll never understand The sense of your leaving Was it the way it was planned? And so we grace another table And raise our glasses one more time There's a face at the window And I ain't never, never sayin' goodbye.. One by one Only the Good die young They're only flyin' too close to the sun Cryin' for nothing Cryin' for no-one No-one but you