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Greed island

de Florence Sinclair

My baby doesn't want the kind of bloke
Who drives a flash sports car.
She's not impressed by the kind that gets
In a Ferrari or a Jaguar.
She likes a man with a real machine,
And not a little thing-a-me-jig.
My baby only wants a man
Who drives a rig.

My baby loves my rig 'cause my baby likes 'em big,
She's the kind of girl for me.
My baby loves to ride and roll on through the night,
I love my baby yeah, my baby loves my rig.

She's not of those fancy girls
Who likes steppin' from a limousine.
She prefers to be ridin' high
On the smell of dieseline.
Her mind's made up and she's made it clear,
She doesn't need to stop and think.
My baby only wants a man
Who drives a rig.


My baby loves my rig 'cause my baby likes 'em big,
She's the kind of girl for me.
My baby loves to ride and roll on through the night,
I love my baby yeah, my baby loves my rig.

She says a car's too small like a basement flat,
There's no room for love in a thing like that.
She reckons up in a rig with a bunk and a seat
Is like checkin' into a honeymoon suite.

My baby loves my rig 'cause my baby likes 'em big,
She's the kind of girl for me.
My baby loves to ride and roll on through the night,
I love my baby yeah.
Of all the women in the big wide world,
I wouldn't trade my highway girl.
I love my baby yeah, my baby loves my rig.
I love my baby yeah, my baby loves my rig.

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