Bad Motorcycle

I was on my way to school when a fellow I could meet
Took me by the hand and he told me I was sweet
And I knew by the way he smoked
He was a bad motorcycle
Yes I knew by the way he smoked
He was a bad motorcycle

As we walked down along he asked me for my phone
He told me his name and I told him the same
And I knew by the way he smoked
He was a bad motorcycle
Yes I knew by the way he smoked
He was a bad motorcycle

Got on the jiving about a fling
He knew just what was happening
He had my heart just a pumping
But he was really saying something
He had my heart up on a shelf
Good he was really something else

I saw him and went home, sat down to wait
He called me at eight, not one minute late
And I knew by the way he smoked
He was a bad motorcycle
Yes I knew by the way he smoked
He was a bad motorcycle

I saw him and went home, sat down to wait
He called me at eight, not one minute late
And I knew by the way he smoked
He was a bad motorcycle
Yes I knew by the way he smoked
He was a bad motorcycle

He was a bad motorcycle
He was a bad motorcycle
He was a bad motorcycle
He was a bad motorcycle
He was a bad motorcycle
He was a bad motorcycle
He was a bad motorcycle