When it comes to bikes and barroom fights,Well I guess I've seen me
a few.I've straddled the Hogs and run after the broads And swilled down an ocean of brew.It took me some years to dry behind the ears and learn to keep my mouth shut.To not lose my coo land not act like a fool Over some drunken, barfly slut. Now, I got a few bumps and I took my lumps When some bozo was knockin' me down. But more often then not I came out on top,And I thought I was the baddest in town. I packed a piece in my boot when I rode on my scoot,And my belt held yet another.And if I got any lip somebody'd get hit-I was one no shit, badass ******. It was Friday night at the ol' Blue
Light,My favorite scooter tramp bar Yeah, I was struttin' my stuff and actin' real tough,Playing biker superstar With a gal on my lap I was into my rap,Full of coke, tequila, and beer"I can ride any putt or kick any butt Better than any damn biker here!" I sat there and glared while the jukebox blared Some silly ass cowboy song And I howled out the tune and kept time with a spoon,While the gal massaged my ol dong. I laughed and I joked and was taking a toke When an old dude bumped into my stool.With a glance at the crowd,I barked out real loud,"Hey, you crazy old fool!" "Are you touched in the head,or just stupid instead?Are you spastic, you damn clumsy ox?Get outta here fast,or I'll beat your old ass And they'll send you back home in a box!' There wasn't a sound as the old dude turned round And heaved one long and tired sigh.A crusty galoot,he looked tough as a boot,And he fixed me with his one good eye.
"Now look, son" he said with a shake of his head,"I'm a biker not looking for strife.Don't be fooled by gray hair or this eye patch I wear-Ive been on two wheels all my life" "I'm weathered and gnarly,but I still ride a Harley,And I ain't never backed down yet.But I'll buy ya a beer and we'll skip this beef here,If you'll show an old man some respect." You think I care about your ******gray hair?"I shouted and slugged down my beer,"You can bet your gray stubble there's gonna be trouble,You half-ass-ed, old, dip shit queer!" I could hear my own breath and the room smelled like
death And the old cat just stared at the floor.Then he lifted his head and the words that he said I'll remember when Im a hundred and four. "Well, I gave you an out,you damned kid lout, But I guess you re as dumb as you look. You just ain't been told 'bout respect for the old."And with that he threw a left hook. At the end of his wrist was a cast iron fist That damn near knocked out my brain.And when the fog cleared my vision was bleared, And I couldn't remember my name.
The old coots voice hissed"Now don't get me pissed.Mind your manners and just be polite.Let's make our mends and all go home friends And forget this stupid ass fight." I got to my kneesandlet out a sneeze That spewed blood all over the floor.I should of stayed down but like a jerk off clown I stood up in the puddle of gore. I said "Your really a sucker you gray bearded ******,You half dead, old, bag of guts.Kiss your scoot goodbye cause you're fixin' to die Then he kicked me square in the nuts. The crowd made for the door as I thrashed on the floor In a pain like I never had felt. But through all raw hurting the blood and the dirt I went for the gun in my belt. But I just made things worse the old guy was first And his boot came down on my hand With a sickening crunch the bones popped in a bunch
And I tried but failed to stand Well I guess he got mad 'cause the rest was real bad As my rudness he attempted to cure There were steel toed kicks and roundhouse licks You get the idea I'm sure. With my ribs all mushed and my fingers crushed I was just this side of dead My bones were broke and I though I'd croak But I heard the words that he said "I may be gray but I got this way By out toughin' shitheads like you Real bikers ain't old till they re dead and cold And I've got some more livin' to do." Then he walked out of the bar and I heard from afar As his bikes big engine caught. And as the blood dried I lay there and tried To figure out Just what I'd been taught. And the moral seemed clear through the blood and the beerThough it hurt too much to stir With an old biker dude dont ever be rude,
Just smile and always say ......SIR
