James Taylor's "Steamroller"

Steamroller

Well, I'm a steamroller, baby, I'm bound to roll all over you.
Yes, I'm a steamroller now, baby, I'm bound to roll all over you.
I'm gonna inject your soul with some sweet rock 'n roll
and shoot you full of rhythm and blues.

Well, I'm a cement mixer, a churning urn of burning funk.
Yeah, I'm a cement mixer baby, a churning urn of burning funk, god damn right.
Well, I'm a demolition derby, yes, a hefty hunk of steaming junk,
Mister McGee got the blues for you and me, way down, yeah.

Now, I'm a napalm bomb, baby, just guaranteed to blow your mind.
Yeah, I'm a napalm bomb gotta tell you one more time to sit down, stand up, go home, yeah.
No guarantee to blow your mind, momma, yeah.
And if I can't have your love for my own to take home and keep me warm,
there’s only one thing left to find, oh, bokka nine, bokka nine, bokka.
I just don’t seem to can’t lose these here low down, no way up, half flying,
freeze drying, fat frying, chicken choking, mother fucking can’t, oh, roll on over,
I got those steamroller blues.