Favorite Motorcycle Riding Lyrics

[Cliffy777]

I recently re-discovered a great Lou Reed tune in which he talks about his Kaw GPZ. (Thanks to Rick Kelley for the assistance on the re-find). In the song "New Sensations" from the album of the same name (1984) Lou sings:
"I took my GPZ out for a ride,
the engine felt good between my thighs.
The air felt cold, it was 40 degrees outside.
I rode to Pennsylvania through the Delaware gap,
sometimes I got nervous had to check the map,
I stopped at roadside diner for a burger and a coke."

Later he sings: "I love that GPZ so much you know that I could kiss her."

Okay so he ain't riding a Beemer, but he is Rounder material (40 degree ride) and he likes to stop for food!

So what are your favorite motorcycle related lyrics? OR what is your favorite instrumental tune that puts you in the riding mood? Or both.

Help me oh Moderator(s) I thought I was putting this in the Campfire. Dang it!

[SNC1923]

Here's a song I just found out about. It's by Gene Clark. This song, "Gypsy Rider" is a from an album called So Rebellious a Lover that he recorded with Carla Olson.

Cool story: Last Sunday, my brother Kevin and his band were performing at a wake for the band's former lead singer, a motorcyclist. They played this song as a tribute to Dan and to his motorcyclist friends in attendance. Kev introduced this little-known song explaining that it was penned by Clark, a founding member of the Byrds. When they were done, the crowed applauded wildly, and the owner of the bar took to the stage to introduce one of his employees, who turned out to be Gene Clark's son. He thanked the band and told them that he remembered Clark singing this song in the kitchen when he was a little boy. What are the odds?

I haven't heard it yet myself, but here are the lyrics:

"Gypsy Rider" (Gene Clark)

Crank her over once again
Put your face into the wind
Find another road where you're never been.
Sing that 2-wheeled melody
The highway symphony
You know she'll never understand.

Gypsy Rider sing*
Your 2-wheeled symphony
You know there's nothing to explain.
She should have known by now*
You're just a vagabond
You may never pass this way again.

All the writings on the wall
The paper all must fall
You're only as good as your word remains
You can take it out if you
Decide to follow through
Just take what you earn and leave what remains.

Gypsy Rider sing
Your 2-wheeled symphony
You know there's nothing to explain.
She should have known by now
You're just a vagabond
You may never pass this way again.

Gene Clark & Carla Olson
"So Rebellious A Lover"
Demon Records 1987

[Cliffy777]

that is a wild story about the wake, etc.

[RebeccaV]

....until I heard this song. It's lovely. Much thanks to The Veg for turning me on to it. I think it's cool that the gal ends up with the bike.

ARTIST: Richard Thompson
TITLE: 1952 Vincent Black Lightning

Said Red Molly to James that's a fine motorbike
A girl could feel special on any such like
Said James to Red Molly, well my hat's off to you
It's a Vincent Black Lightning, 1952
And I've seen you at the corners and cafes it seems
Red hair and black leather, my favorite color scheme
And he pulled her on behind
And down to Boxhill they did ride

Said James to Red Molly, here's a ring for your right hand
But I'll tell you in earnest I'm a dangerous man
I've fought with the law since I was seventeen
I robbed many a man to get my Vincent machine
Now I'm 21 years, I might make 22
And I don't mind dying, but for the love of you
And if fate should break my stride
Then I'll give you my Vincent to ride

Come down, come down, Red Molly, called Sergeant McRae
For they've taken young James Adie for armed robbery
Shotgun blast hit his chest, left nothing inside
Oh, come down, Red Molly to his dying bedside
When she came to the hospital, there wasn't much left
He was running out of road, he was running out of breath
But he smiled to see her cry
And said I'll give you my Vincent to ride

Says James, in my opinion, there's nothing in this world
Beats a 52 Vincent and a red headed girl
Now Nortons and Indians and Greeveses won't do
They don't have a soul like a Vincent 52
He reached for her hand and he slipped her the keys
He said I've got no further use for these
I see angels on Ariels in leather and chrome
Swooping down from heaven to carry me home
And he gave her one last kiss and died
And he gave her his Vincent to ride

[username]

lou reed sounds like he was a rounder. good man.

my favorite lyrics are:

went for a ride
one dark night
rode through the hole
punched by my light

left turn ahead
flex right leg
push left, lean, breathe
press right peg

there on the road
in front of me
one gone so long
all white and eerie

i got on the brakes
and stopping all motion
came face to face with my
forum reputation

a tear dropped
from my right eye
it was so young
when we said good-bye

it faded off, into the woods
and left me on the road
and an 18 wheeler rounded the bend
and crushed me like a toad

now the two of us haunt those woods
waiting for riders to go on by
the ones we like that make good sense
we boost their rep up high

so if you ride that road
while youre headed to the dealer
don't try to stop or say hello
there's too many 18 wheelers!

[guitar solo]

[SCDorman]

Boxergrrlie took mine.

[sgborgstrom]

From Nanci Griffith few years ago:
Wall of Death
Words & Music by Richard Thompson
©1982 Beeswing Music (BMII Administered By BUG Music
NANCI GRIFFITH: Harmony Vocal
lAIN MATTHEWS: Lead Vocal
TOM RUSSELL: Bass Vocal
JAMES HOOKER: Piano
DOUG LANCIO: Electric Guitar
RON DE LA VEGA: Bass
PAT MCINERNEY: Drums
BRIAN WILLOUGHBY: Acouitic Guitar
CLIVE GREOSON: Electric Guitar, Harmony Vocal
SHARON SHANNON: Button Accordion

Chorus:
Let me ride on the wall of death one more time
Let me ride on the wall of death one more time
You can waste your time on the other rides
But this is the nearest to being alive
Oh let me take my chances on the wall of death

You can go with the crazy people in the crooked house
You can fly away on the rocket or spin in the mouse
The tunnel of love might amuse you
And Noah's Ark might confuse you
But let me take my chances on the wall of death

Bridge:
On the wall of death
All the world is far from me
On the wall of death
It's the nearest to being free

You're going nowhere when you ride on the carousel
And maybe you're strong
But what's the good of ringing a bell
The switchback will make you crazy
Beware of the hearded lady
Oh let me take my chances on the wall of death

Chorus:
Let me ride on the wall of death one more time
Let me ride on the wall of death one more time
You can waste your time on the other rides
But this is the nearest to being alive
Oh let me take my chances on the wall of death
Oh let me take my chances on the wall of death
Oh let me take my chances on the wall of death

[Braddog]

"Too Old To Rock 'n' Roll: Too Young To Die"

The old Rocker wore his hair too long,
wore his trouser cuffs too tight.
Unfashionable to the end --- drank his ale too light.
Death's head belt buckle --- yesterday's dreams ---
the transport caf' prophet of doom.
Ringing no change in his double-sewn seams
in his post-war-babe gloom.

Now he's too old to Rock'n'Roll but he's too young to die.

He once owned a Harley Davidson and a Triumph Bonneville.
Counted his friends in burned-out spark plugs
and prays that he always will.
But he's the last of the blue blood greaser boys
all of his mates are doing time:
married with three kids up by the ring road
sold their souls straight down the line.
And some of them own little sports cars
and meet at the tennis club do's.
For drinks on a Sunday --- work on Monday.
They've thrown away their blue suede shoes.

Now they're too old to Rock'n'Roll and they're too young to die.

So the old Rocker gets out his bike
to make a ton before he takes his leave.
Up on the A1 by Scotch Corner
just like it used to be.
And as he flies --- tears in his eyes ---
his wind-whipped words echo the final take
and he hits the trunk road doing around 120
with no room left to brake.

And he was too old to Rock'n'Roll but he was too young to die.
No, you're never too old to Rock'n'Roll if you're too young to die.

[Cliffy777]

I would like to ask all the forum members to join me in praying for Username.

"lord, we know his mind ain't right, but we ask for Mercy (or one of her sisters) for our buddy. The medicine is so expensive and he is afraid to go under the knife.... So please lord you fix him on account of we don't know what to do."

[bikerfish1100]

Arlo Guthrie's "The Motorcycle Song".. extended story version


I don't want a pickle
Just want to ride on my motorsickle
And I don't want a tickle
'Cause I'd rather ride on my motorsickle
And I don't want to die
Just want to ride on my motorcy...cle

It was late last night the other day
I thought I'd go up and see Ray
So l went up and I saw Ray
There was only one thing Ray could say, was:

CHORUS

This song is about the time that I was ridin' my motorcycle.
Going down a mountain road, at 150 miles an hour, playin'
my guitar. On one side of the mountain road there was a
mountain, and on the other side there was nothin' - there was
a cliff in the air.

Now, when you're going down a mountain road at I50 miles
an hour you gotta be very careful, especially if you're playin'
a guitar. Especially if that guitar is an acoustic guitar.
Because if it's an acoustic guitar, the wind pressure is greater
on the box side than on the neck side, because there's
more guitar on the box side. I wasn't payin' attention ..

Luckily I didn't go into the mountain - I went over the cliff.
I was goin' at 150 miles an hour sideways and 500 feet down
at the same time.

I knew it was the end. I looked down, I said ''Wow! Some
trip". I thought it...well I knew it was...I knew it was my last
trip, and in my last remaining seconds in world,I decided
to write one last farewell song to the world.

Put a new ink cartridge in my pen. Took out a piece of paper.
I sat back and I thought awhile. Then I started writin':
I don't want a pickle
Just want to ride on my motorsickle
And I don't want a tickle
'Cause I'd rather ride on my motorsickle

And I don't want to die
Just want to ride on my motorcy ...cle."

I knew that, it wasn't the best song l ever wrote, but I didn't
have time to change it. I was comin' down mighty fast.

But as you all know, and as fate would have it, I didn't die. I
landed on the top of a police car. And he died. I drove away
on the road that he was on. I came into town at a screamin'
175 miles an hour, playin' the motorcycle song.

I came into town, I jumped off my bike, the bike went around
the corner by itself, went up on the stand by itself, turned
itself off.

I walked over to my friend. He was standin' there eatin'
pickles. I said "Hi, what's happenin'?" He looked at me in the
eye and said "Nothin'".

You gotta sing it with that kind of enthusiasm. Like you just
squashed a cop...

CHORUS

and.. the shorter singalong version

I dont want a pickle
I just wanna ride on my morotcycle
And I dont want a tickle
I'd rather ride on my motorcycle
And I dont wanna die
I just wanna ride on my motorcy...cle

It was late last night, the other day
Thought I'd go up and see Ray
So I went up and I saw Ray
There was only one thing Ray could say was I...

I dont want a pickle
I just wanna ride my motorcycle
And I don't want a tickle
I'd rather ride on my motorcycle
And I don't wanna die
Just wanna ride on my motorcy...cle

Late last week I was on my bike
I run into a friend named Mike
Run into a friend named Mike
Mike no longer has a bike he cries...

I don't want a pickle
I just wanna ride on my motorcycle
Yeah, and I don't want a tickle
Cuz I'd rather ride on my motorcycle
And I don't wanna die
Just wanna ride on my motorcy...cle

in either case, it sounds great in your helmet on a nice spring day.... :clap

[BradfordBenn]

VROOOM VROOOM by King Crimson

[rocketman]

Here's a song I just found out about. It's by Gene Clark. This song, "Gypsy Rider" is a from an album called So Rebellious a Lover that he recorded with Carla Olson.

Cool story: Last Sunday, my brother Kevin and his band were performing at a wake for the band's former lead singer, a motorcyclist. They played this song as a tribute to Dan and to his motorcyclist friends in attendance. Kev introduced this little-known song explaining that it was penned by Clark, a founding member of the Byrds.

And don't forget that the Byrds did the title(?) song to Easy Rider.

Ballad Of Easy Rider

The river flows
It flows to the sea
Wherever that river goes
That's where I want to be
Flow river flow
Let your waters wash down
Take me from this road
To some other town

All he wanted
Was to be free
And that's the way
It turned out to be
Flow river flow
Let your waters wash down
Take me from this road
To some other town

Flow river flow
Past the shaded tree
Go river, go
Go to the sea
Flow to the sea

The river flows
It flows to the sea
Wherever that river goes
That's where I want to be
Flow river flow
Let your waters wash down
Take me from this road
To some other town

Always been one of my favorites

RM

[username]

I would like to ask all the forum members to join me in praying for Username.

"lord, we know his mind ain't right, but we ask for Mercy (or one of her sisters) for our buddy. The medicine is so expensive and he is afraid to go under the knife.... So please lord you fix him on account of we don't know what to do."

i think it is working. the rain has stopped and the sun is coming out. i feel saner. a little dove is perched on my window sill and it has an olive branch in its mouth. that or it's a malnourished pigeon with a deformed beak. i'm not much of a birder..

you know, this reminds me of a motorcycling song...

[strums guitar. it's out of tune. whatever.]

my mind is twisted
my thoughts are iffy
and that wasn't missed
by my good bud cliffy

'that boy username
he ain't there
so join me folks
in a tongue-and-cheek prayer'

[drum solo. wooden spoons on tupperware.]

'he sure needs to
get out and ride
dear lord that boy
needs medicide!

so give him some sun
and a light work load
so he can get
out on the road.

he can twist that throttle
and shift those gears
and then his durn singing
won't be in our ears.'

:D

[dancogan]

Username! You brought the only sunshine I've had today. :clap
Thanks.

[James.A]

There's a line in a Bottle Rockets song that goes;

sometimes electric...
sometimes kick...
sometimes feces...
sometimes ****....

It's not a motorcycle song, per se. More about the up's and downs of living, but I like the way they worked the motorcycle reference in there.

[Hodag]

This one always brings a smile to my face, and I usually sing along as loud as I can. Not sure if he is talking about motorcycles though?


On a long and lonesome highway, east of omaha.
You can listen to the engine moaning out it’s one lone song
You can think about woman, or the girl you knew the night before,
But your thoughts will soon be wandering, the way they always do.
When your riding sixteen hours and there’s nothing much to do
And you don’t feel much like riding, you just wish the trip was through.
Say, here I am, on the road again. there I am, up on the stage.


Oh and I like the Mettalica version better.

[Cliffy777]

Mark - I just called my close personal friend (CPF) Bob Seeger and it is okay with him that you think of it as a motorcycle song AND it is okay with me if you like the Metallica version bettter.
Username - you are one primo word slinger. I would not want to face you on a dusty Texas street with only my wits to protect me. No sir - you are now the official MC of the Rounders. You are excused from wearing oversized sports clothing (unless you like it).
By the power vested in me by myself as El Dookey I declare it so. Mr BB, please make note of our new poet laureate. Prepare a stipend for him from the Dookey Treasury. What? No dinero? Well, we will have to make do.
As El Dookey I must also request a Rounder Poem of our Poet. Not too long, not too short, but just right please.
Thanks.

[James O]

One of my favorites to sing in the privacy of my helmet:
(Towards the end of the song)
Meat Loaf "Bat Out of Hell"

Well I can see myself, tearing up the road, faster than any other boy has ever gone.
And my skin is raw, but my soul is ripe, and no one's gonna stop me now, I'm gonna make my escape.
But I can't stop thinking of you, and I never see the sudden curve until it's way too late.
(Screaming guitar and wailing piano)
And I never see the sudden curve until it's way too late.
(Crescendo to silence)
And I'm dying at the bottom of a pit, in the blazing sun.
Torn and twisted at the foot of a burning bike.
And I think somebody, somewhere must be tolling a bell.
And the last thing I see is my heart, still beating.
Breaking out of my body and flying away, like a bat out of hell.



About this time in my ride, I can feel the rear wheel losing traction in the corner and I quickly remember that it's just a song and I better slow my a**
down.

"My red joystick, my red joystick, you can take everything but leave my red joystick" Lou Reed New Sensations

[Spider]

This was one of my favorite songs from my early days:

Artist: Vaughn Monroe
Words and Music by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller


Terror of Highway 101
He wore black denim trousers and motorcycle boots
And a black leather jacket with an eagle on the back
He had a hopped-up 'cicle that took off like a gun
That fool was the terror of Highway 101

Well, he never washed his face and he never combed his hair
He had axle grease imbedded underneath his fingernails
On the muscle of his arm was a red tattoo
A picture of a heart saying "Mother, I love you"

He had a pretty girlfriend by the name of Mary Lou
But he treated her just like he treated all the rest
And everybody pitied her and everybody knew
He loved that doggone motorcycle best

He wore black denim trousers and motorcycle boots
And a black leather jacket with an eagle on the back
He had a hopped-up 'cicle that took off like a gun
That fool was the terror of Highway 101

Mary Lou, poor girl, she pleaded and she begged him not to leave
She said "I've got a feeling if you ride tonight I'll grieve"
But her tears were shed in vain and her every word was lost
In the rumble of an engine and the smoke from his exhaust

Then he took off like the Devil and there was fire in his eyes!!
He said "I'll go a thousand miles before the sun can rise."
But he hit a screamin' diesel that was California-bound"

And when they cleared the wreckage, all they found

Was his black denim trousers and motorcycle boots
And a black leather jacket with an eagle on the back
But they couldn't find the 'cicle that took off like a gun
And they never found the terror of Highway 101

-as sung on "The Diamonds Collection"-Stardust CD-1010
-charted by The Cheers at # 6 in 1955

[username]

Username - you are one primo word slinger. I would not want to face you on a dusty Texas street with only my wits to protect me. No sir - you are now the official MC of the Rounders. You are excused from wearing oversized sports clothing (unless you like it).
By the power vested in me by myself as El Dookey I declare it so. Mr BB, please make note of our new poet laureate. Prepare a stipend for him from the Dookey Treasury. What? No dinero? Well, we will have to make do.
As El Dookey I must also request a Rounder Poem of our Poet. Not too long, not too short, but just right please.
Thanks.

aww, shucks, this is quite an honor. the pressure to create a poem fitting of the rounders is very high, and i will do my best. most likely i will offer several, and bow to your power as el dookey in making a recommendation. also, while i hope you enjoy the work, i must say that i am the one who benefits from this. not only from the generous stipend, but for providing a suitable muse - the thought of ice encrusted northerners gutting out rides during winter, and the resulting conversations while defrosting with 'normal' people that ensue. you guys rule.

[MC alter ego]
i also want to put all the sucka MCs - the hosers, the posers, the supreme brown-nosers - on notice that username is in tha house, and gonna represent. and to the rounders, whether you're a mutha, a brutha, or you ain't got no otha, if anyone tries to front, you let me know, i've got your back. anyone messes with you, and they're going to get a serious case of lead poisoning, know what i'm sayin'? yeah, that's right, i'll put pencil to paper, and write a mocking poem in less time than it takes to jimmy a u-lock with a bic pen, and i don't want to hear any of that about pencils having graphite in them, a'ight? that sh*t is lead!
[/MC alter ego]

:) :huh

[rocketman]

lou reed sounds like he was a rounder. good man.

my favorite lyrics are:
<snip snip>
now the two of us haunt those woods
waiting for riders to go on by
the ones we like that make good sense
we boost their rep up high

so if you ride that road
while youre headed to the dealer
don't try to stop or say hello
there's too many 18 wheelers!

[guitar solo]

Hmmm, sounds like you may have met Young Johnny Thames in them thar woods...

The Tale of Young Johnny Thames

When I was a lad, and still lived with my Dad, I first heard about young Johnny Thames.
It’s a tale often told, to the young by the old, to send chills to the core of their bones.
‘Tis a tale they do tell, full of terror and dread, of the rider who comes in the night.
When moon is all dark, and the fires do spark in the hearth yet shed hardly no light.

In year 43, it just happened to be, when young Johnny was just seventeen.
He was out really late, when he met his sad fate, on his bike that was shinny and bright.
He was terribly proud that it sounded so loud, you could hear him for miles around.
But the man in the van that in-to him ran, was so old he was deaf to it’s sound.

He was rounding a bend when his life it did end, on the park road just outside of town.
The impact was great and thou it was late, it awoke the whole place with it sound.
They all rushed to the scene, and the ladies did scream, at the horror they saw in the road.
And the flames were so high that it lit up the sky, and the trees in the park even glowed.

And then out of flames rode young Johnny Thames, and away he sped off on his bike.
He was wrapped all in red, as flames leapt from his head, and yet somehow they sensed he could tell.
That they’d all simply stood, as though carved out of wood, no one daring to venture too near.
As if rooted in place, cause they just couldn’t face, their despair as they hung back in fear

As they watched him go by, evil shot from his eye, they could tell that he wished them no good.
Now the town lives in fear, they know Johnny is near, plotting evil and mischief and hurt.
No one goes out past dark, no one enters the park on the old road that runs past the town.
It is dry to the bone, not a good place roam, it lies fallow and dismal and brown.

Only young foolish boys, who are bored with their toys, ever venture to enter that place.
But they don’t stay too long cause the place feels all wrong, as if Johnny was lurking about!
Sometimes in the night there’s quick flash of light, that’s reflected from out of that park;
When a car rushes past, high beams trying to blast, all the fear from that place when it dark.

It could well be some chrome, or the shine off the dome of Johnny’s now bald hairless head.
But not one cares to know enough to dare go, in that wood when the sun has gone down.
So it’s now Johnny’s place, and quite often he’ll race, through the town in the stillness of dawn.
With a face that's so pale, would make anyone quail, and burnt skin that is so tightly drawn.

Over bones without flesh, that are deader than death, he goes roaring about that poor place.
Casting terror untold with a grimace so cold, he’s the reaper that comes for their souls.
So he tears through the town, riding up and back down, with that evil look deep in his eye.
So you’d best not be out, of that have no doubt, or till daylight you might not survive!

When he died made a deal, that can-not be repealed, the grim reaper now stands by his side.
Now he rides to collect, souls to pay up the debt, that he feels the town owes for it's crime.
For their failing to act, when they all just stood back, while the fire consumed all to ash.
When he's out on his ride, if in time you don’t hide, then your soul he will add to his cache.

He enacts his revenge, that no action will mend, though the town folk have tried all they might.
It’s too late to repair, they can only just stare, at the horror that that rides through the night.
Now that once happy place, lives with naught but disgrace, for their failure to act on that day.
No one put out the flames, that brunt young Johnny Thames, and forever he WILL make them pay!

© 2004 Jeffry L'H. Tank

RM

[JetDoc]

I can't believe that no one has brought up the ultimate motorcycle riding song from Steppenwolf:

Get your motor runnin'
Head out on the highway
Lookin' for adventure
And whatever comes our way
Yeah Darlin' go make it happen
Take the world in a love embrace
Fire all of your guns at once
And explode into space

I like smoke and lightning
Heavy metal thunder
Racin' with the wind
And the feelin' that I'm under
Yeah Darlin' go make it happen
Take the world in a love embrace
Fire all of your guns at once
And explode into space

Like a true nature's child
We were born, born to be wild
We can climb so high
I never wanna die

Born to be wild
Born to be wild

:rocker :bikes :rocker

[JetDoc]

Motorcycle song? That's from a Chevy truck commercial. :stick
:twirl
I don't remember seeing any Chevy trucks being sold in 'Easy Rider' (although they did sell some other heavy stuff!) :wave

[Grey Matter]

VROOOM VROOOM by King Crimson

Oh my God there is another King Crimson fan in the world. Who knew...

[BradfordBenn]

Oh my God there is another King Crimson fan in the world. Who knew...
And a Raising Arizona fan. UH OH :stick :thumb :brad

We felt that the institution did not have much to offer us anymore.

[boofer]

Anyone with the good taste to ride a beemer should appreciate "King Crimson"

[lorazepam]

I know at least one other will know where these lyrics come from:

"I'll puke if that jukebox plays John Cougar one more time"

[BMWBeauty]

I know at least one other will know where these lyrics come from:

"I'll puke if that jukebox plays John Cougar one more time"


Indianapolis......Bottle Rockets..... :bliss

[James.A]

Can't go west...can't go east......

I never much cared for Cougar. I literally spewed beer the first time I heard that "I'll puke...." line

[Grey Matter]

Anyone with the good taste to ride a beemer should appreciate "King Crimson"

Right on...


_________
I am not sure if this is a motorcycle song, OK I am pretty sure it is not. However I sometimes sing it to myself while riding & re-running the Ronnie Montrose guitar solo over & over in my head.

"Free Ride" by the Edgar Winter Group

The mountain is high
The valley is low
and you're confused on which way to go
so I've come here to give you a hand
and lead you into the promised land
so...
come on and take a free ride [free ride!]
come on and sit here by my side
come on and take a free ride
all over the country I've seen it the same
nobody's winning at this kind of game
we've got to do better it's time to begin
you know all the answers must come from within
so...
come on and take a free ride [free ride]
come on and sit here by my side
come on and take a free ride

It is quite possible the line in the song “come on and sit here by my side” is in reference to a side-car rig. :D

[ScottM]

George Strait "Cowboys Like Us"


(Anthony Smith/Bob DiPiero)

I take off time to time
With those crazy friends of mine
Head out on steel horses
With wheels and we ride

We burn up that road to old Mexico
Blend in with the desert
Just we amigos
And we roll

Chorus:
Cowboys like us sure do have fun
Racin' the wind, chasin' the sun
Take the long way around back to square one
Today we're just outlaws out on the run
There'll be no regrets, no worries and such
For cowboys like us

We talk about livin', babies, and women
All that we've lost and all we've been givin'
We sing about true love, lie about things we ain't done
Drink one more cold one, come mornin' get up
And we roll



Not a huge George fan, but this one hits home pretty well!

Scott

[HankPfister]

One morning on the Parkway we were cruisin' on my Beemer
My Sweetie Pie was hangin' on tight!
When a headlight way behind me, Sped right on by me
Around a curve he went and outa sight!

It was a Norton Commando, that delivered a challenge,
That could not go unmet.
So I clunked down two gears, and opened up the throttle,
and after that Norton we went!

CHORUS
For mile after mile, of White Knuckled Smiles
We gave it all we were worth
My Beemer was a beamin' and my girl friend was a screamin'
"DON'T YOU LET HIM LEAVE US IN THE DIRT!"

Well I could tell I suprised him when I came up behind him
by the double take that he took
We rode up to red line as we followed the white line
And on down that Parkway we booked.

Well in the straigh a ways he'd leave us, but I would always catch him
as we leaned into the curves..
My Beamer was a growling, and his Nortin it was howling
but I never let him leave us in the dirt!

CHORUS

Well my Beamer is German, his Norton is British,
But my girlfriend was nuthin but a flirt!
When we pulled into a rest stop, she hopped on his Norton
And the two of 'em left me in the dirt!

CHORUS"
For mile after mile of WHITE KNUCKLED SMILES
We gave it all we were worth,
My Beamer was a beamin as My girl friend was leavin'
as the two of 'em left me in the dirt, yea the two of 'em left me in the dirt!

Hank Pfister
Copper Hill, VA :violin :beer

[Cliffy777]

Most excellent.