I got dry lips, Doc,
And finger tips that tremble,
I get weak at the knees
When I see how she’s assembled,
She’s the sweetest peach I ever seen
But she just aint that in to me,
Well I don’t know what to do
With my cycle dyke blues.
She’s the archetypal
Motor cycle queen all
Buckles, boots and kitty suits
I’m done for,
That girl she gives me heart attack,
All dressed up like a vampire bat
Well I don’t know what to do
With my cycle dyke blues.
I don’t sleep right, Doc,
My heart beat’s done gone tripled,
And I chew through pants
With my king kong ding dong dribble,
I wanna be her blistered twister mat
But she says she just aint in to that,
Well I don’t know what to do
With my cycle dyke blues.
Be my thigh high buckle booted buckaroo tonight
Be my thigh high buckle booted buckaroo tonight
Be my frantic panting panty antic pride
Be my thigh high buckle booted buckaroo tonight
She’s the orchard of my aching eyes,
But she don’t get undressed for guys
Well I don’t know what to do
With my cycle dyke blues.
