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