| She boogies alright
|
| And she stares with a mild curiosity
|
| A little uptight
|
| Wears her greys with her pent up emotions
|
| And she spends her nights making friends with old 40s Hollywood
|
| She sleeps alright
|
| When she sleeps on her own
|
| She likes to ride
|
| Like a drunk, drunken cowgirl
|
| She likes to ride
|
| Every single way
|
| She likes to ride
|
| Live a nerve, nervous schoolgirl
|
| She likes to ride, whoo hoo
|
| She doesn’t talk much
|
| Like a shy educated librarian
|
| She brushes you off
|
| She’s afraid of those pent up emotions
|
| Then she shuts the door and attacks like a wild freaky animal
|
| She sleeps alright
|
| When she sleeps on her own
|
| She likes to ride
|
| Like a drunk, drunken cowgirl
|
| She likes to ride
|
| Every single way
|
| She likes to ride
|
| Live a nerve, nervous schoolgirl
|
| She likes to ride, whoo hoo
|
| Things don’t always seem so clear
|
| City life can seem so dear
|
| Try the country for a year
|
| You’ll be back within a year
|
| She likes to ride
|
| Like a drunk, drunken cowgirl
|
| She likes to ride
|
| Every single way
|
| She likes to ride
|
| Live a nerve, nervous schoolgirl
|
| She likes to ride, whoo hoo
|
| She likes to ride, she likes to ride… |