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