[printed in Easy Rider on a Dave Mann background back in the 70's.]


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 cool and 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 than 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 mother

It was Friday night at the ol' Blue Light
My favorite scooter tramp bar
Yeah, I was struttin' my stuff and actin' real tough
Playin' 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 lookin' for strife
Don't be fooled by gray hair or this eyepatch I wear
I've 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 fucking gray hair?"
I shouted and slugged down my beer
"You can bet your gray stubble there's gonna be trouble
You half-assed old dipshit 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 I'm 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 damned near knocked out my brain
And when the fog cleared, my vision was bleared
And I couldn't remember my name

The old coot's voice hissed, "Now don't get me pissed
Mind your manners and just be polite
Let's make our amends and all go home friends
And forget this stupid-ass fight."

I got to my knees and let out a sneeze
That spewed blood all over the floor
I shoulda stayed down, but like a jerk-off clown
I stood up in the puddle of gore

I said, "You're really a sucker, you gray-bearded fucker
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 the hurt, in 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 rudeness 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 bike's 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 beer
Though it hurt too much to stir
With an old biker dude don't ever be rude
Just smile and always say "SIR"