Texty písní Y&T Down for the Count All American Boy

All American Boy

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I've got a 57' Chevy with four on the floor,
glass packs, cheeter slicks, 454,
girls on the phone, girls at my door,
they just keep comin' back for more,
I'm just a red-blooded, fun-lovin' all American boy.

I've got a big Stratocaster and my band is hot,
Wild streak a mile wild that just won't stop,
Got a chain on my mirror made of beer can tops,
A chip on my shoulder, better not knock it off,
I'm just a red-blooded fun-lovin' all American boy.

Well her eyes are blue and her skin is tan,
the girl looks to me, thinks that I'm all hands,
and I'm gonna touch her every where I can,
I'm just a red-blooded fun-lovin' all American boy.

I'm just a red-blooded fun-lovin' all American boy.

Yeah, yeah, yeah...

I'm just a red-blooded fun-lovin' all American boy.

Ohh yeah...

I'm just a red-blooded fun-lovin' all American boy.
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