I’m a fleabit peanut monkey
All my friends are junkies
Tweeter and the Monkey Man were hard up for cash
They stayed up all night selling cocaine and hash
To an undercover cop who had a sister named Jan
For reasons unexplained she loved the Monkey Man
He rocks in the tree tops all day long
Hoppin’ and a-boppin’ and singing his song
All the little birdies on Jaybird Street
Love to hear the robin go tweet tweet tweet
And the songbirds are singing
Like they know the score
And I love you, I love you, I love you
Like never before
The one I love forever is untrue
And if I could you know that I would
Fly away with you
Blue moon of Kentucky keep on shining,
Shine on the one that’s gone and proved untrue.
Blue moon of Kentucky keep on shining,
Shine on the one that’s gone and left me blue.
Bom ba ba bom ba bom ba bom bom ba ba bom ba ba bom ba ba dang a dang dang
Ba ba ding a dong ding Blue moon
All of a sudden, I found myself in love with the world
So there was only one thing that I could do
Was ding a ding, dang my dang a long ling long
Ba-doom, shananana, shanananana, awwww-dihdihdihdihdihdihdihdih, boomboomboomboomboomboom, ba-doom, shananana, shanananana.
Oh, and last night I got to thinkin’ maybe I, I, I
Should call you up and just forget my foolish pride
I heard your number ringin’, I went cold inside
And last night I didn’t get to sleep at all
Just call me angel of the morning, angel
Just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby
The smell of burning leather as we hold each other tight
As our rivets rub together flashing sparks into the night
At this moment of surrender darling
If you really care, don’t touch me there
There is a rose in Spanish Harlem.
Spanish Johnny drove in from the underworld last night
With bruised arms and broken rhythm and a beat-up old Buick but dressed just like dynamite
Go Go
Go Johnny Go
Go Go
Johnny B. Goode
Some sweat hog mama with a face like a gent
Said my get up and go musta got up & went
Be the queen of my highway,
my motorcycle mama.
We’ll see the world
Through my Harley
I don’t want a pickle, just wanna ride my motor-cicle,
And I don’t wanna die; just wanna ride my motor-cy. Cull.
Get your motor runnin’
Head out on the highway
Lookin’ for adventure
And whatever comes our way
For all the decent citizens you’ve enraged:
You can go to hell.