Driving down the freeway in my shiny big car Sometimes forget what the truths are My urge is to crash, the sweet Indian music Flowing from my overturned car You make me feel You are so real You are to me You make me feel Like a step out of time Chapman has a mansion at the top of the hill He pays young girls for a good thrill Is pleased all day long, until one day with boredom Decided to go out for a kill You make me feel You are so real You are to me You make me feel Like a step out of time It wasted a peace man And gave us a fleece band When times are tough Roll baby roll I see you spinning in your restless grave Roll baby roll I see you spinning in your restless grave Grave Ever did you see me on ritual road I was a king to the flat toad Almost turned the wheel when I came to see Wisdom in the words that you wrote You make me feel You are so real You are to me You make me feel You are so real You are to me Oh You make me feel You are so real You make me Make me, make me, make me Make me, make me, make me Make, make, make, make, make Make, make, make, make Make, make, make Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh Baby You make me You make me feel You are to me You make me feel.