| Take her little fingers
|
| And put 'em to your face
|
| And don’t forget she said
|
| You’re looking good
|
| And don’t forget the next time
|
| That you get into a race
|
| Beneath it all
|
| You’re only flesh and blood
|
| So fill her up and pick her up
|
| And ride into the breeze
|
| You’re taking all the corners
|
| That were at the 35 degrees
|
| It’s so hard to face up to
|
| It’s not in no highway code
|
| Another speedway hero’s coming home
|
| She’s young and dressed in leather
|
| And you met her at a dance
|
| And you can’t make out
|
| That strange look in her eyes
|
| But don’t waste your time in talking
|
| Or waiting for the day
|
| Because biker girls only want
|
| To see you die
|
| So take them, wear their sorrow
|
| Like a badge to all the world
|
| Have pity on this little teenage
|
| Heartbroken girl
|
| It’s so hard to face up to
|
| It ain’t in no highway code
|
| Another speedway hero’s coming home
|
| Speedway
|
| Keep one eye on the speedo
|
| And one hand on the bottle
|
| Keep one eye on the lady
|
| And one hand on the throttle
|
| It’s so hard to face up to
|
| But it’s harder in the dirt
|
| And even speedway heroes are getting hurt
|
| Even speedway heroes are getting hurt
|
| Even speedway heroes are getting hurt |