There was one room in her house that was always kept locked...
It was the garage!
I don't want your love
I don't want your money
I just want the key to your Ferrari
Don't want your bed
I don't want your body
I want the key to your Ferrari
I'm gonna rip it - shine it - rev it - scoot it - skid it -
Jam it - rev it - skip it - gun it
Up and down the 101
Don't want your love
Don't want your money, girl
I said all I want is the key to your Ferrari
And then I saw her... she was a bright red '64 GTO with fins and
Gills like some giant piranha fish, some obscene phallic symbol on
Wheels... little rivers of anticipation ran down my inseam as I
Kicked those five hundred italian horses into life and left
Reality behind me: fifty, sixty, seventy miles an hour... my hand
Slipped inside the belt of my trousers as we passed eighty, ninety
Miles an hour... my hand slipped inside the belt of my trousers and
As we hit the magic 100 my love exploded all over her bright pink
Leather interior... and at that moment, I thought of my mother...
Don't need no drugs
Don't need no liquor
All I want is the key to your Ferrari
You ruby lips - pa!
Your perfect figure - ecch!
I just want the key to your Ferrari
I'm gonna rev it - jam it - scram it - rip it - tear it - bare it -
Ram it - repair it - scoot it
Up and down the 101
Don't want your love
Don't want your money, girl
I said all I want is the key to your Ferrari
He's gonna rev it - scoot it - skid it - rev it - skip it - gun it -
Brake it - zoom it - vacuum it
Up and down the 101
Don't want your love
Don't want your money, girl
I said all I want is the key to your Ferrari
I just want the key to your Ferrari
(cause aliens ate my buick
Writer(s): Thomas Morgan Robertson
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