Jenny

You roared into the driveway of our Southwestern-ranch style house On a new Kawasaki All yellow and black Fresh out of the showroom Our house faced West So the big orange sun Positioned at your back Lit up your magnificent silhouette How much better, how much better Could my life get Nine hundred cubic centimeters Of raw whining power No outstanding warrants for my arrest Whoa A pirates' life for me I hopped on back of the bike Wrapped my arms around you And I sank my face Into your hair And then I inhaled As deeply as I possibly could You were sweet and delicious As the warm desert air And you pointed your head toward the horizon We were the one thing in the galaxy God didn't have his eyes on Nine hundred CC's of raw whining power No outstaning warrants for my arrest I diddle-dee-dee'd goddamn A pirates life for me