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You roared into the driveway |
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Of our southwestern ranch-style house |
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On a new Kawasaki |
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All yellow and black |
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Fresh out of the showroom |
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Our house faced west |
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So the big orange sun |
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Positioned at your back |
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Lit up your magnificent silhouette |
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How much better, how much better can my life get? |
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900 cubic centimeters of raw, whining power, no outstanding warrants for my arrest |
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Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, the pirate's life for me |
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I hopped on the back of the bike, wrapped my arms around you |
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And I sank my face into your hair |
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And then I inhaled as deeply as I possibly could |
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You were as sweet and delicious as the warm desert air |
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And you pointed your headlamp toward the horizon |
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We were the one thing in the galaxy God didn't have his eyes on |
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900 cc's of raw, whining power, no outstanding warrants for my arrest |
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Hi diddle dee dee, goddamn, the pirate's life for me |
