Girl on a Harley, ok, woman on a Harley.



Girl ... I mean Woman on a Harley. Ok, woman on a Harley flashing a little nip.
I think her name is Irene, Motorcycycle Irene.
1, 2, 3, go ......

-Motorcycle Irene-
as performed by Moby Grape

There she sits a-smokin'
Reefer in her mouth
Her hair hanging northward
As she travels south
Dirty, on her Harley
(But her nails are clean)
Super-powered, de-flowered
Over-eighteen Irene

I've seen her in the bare
Where her tattoos and her chains
Wrap around her body
Where written are the names
Of prisons she's been in
And lovers she has seen
Curve-winding, bump 'n' grindin'
Motorcycle Irene

Ground around like hamburger
Layin' an a splat
'tis Irene, her sheen I seen
In pieces crumpled flat
Oh, the feet were in the bushes
Her toes were in her hat
Stark-raven, un-shaven
Motorcycle Irene

The Hunchback, the cripple
Horseman and the Fool
Prayer books and candles and
Carpet, cloaks and jewels
Knowing all the answers
But breakin' all the rules
The stark-naked, un-sacred
Motorcycle Irene