Road Angel Songtext
I was ridin' down that highway,
silver Harley by my side,
when I thought I saw my lady.
She was headin' for the Berkeley hill,
pistol on her hip in case she needed a thrill.
I don't believe it, don't believe a word.
I don't believe it, don't believe a word.
I said, come on with me, baby,
She put her hand into her bag now,
pulled out a half pint of red-eye sauce;
sneakin' 'round the corner drinkin' whiskey from a jar.
I don't believe it, don't believe a word.
I don't believe it, don't believe a word
don't you want to ride with me?
silver Harley by my side,
when I thought I saw my lady.
She was headin' for the Berkeley hill,
pistol on her hip in case she needed a thrill.
I don't believe it, don't believe a word.
I don't believe it, don't believe a word.
I said, come on with me, baby,
She put her hand into her bag now,
pulled out a half pint of red-eye sauce;
sneakin' 'round the corner drinkin' whiskey from a jar.
I don't believe it, don't believe a word.
I don't believe it, don't believe a word
HOSSACK, MICHAEL JOSEPH/HARTMAN, JOHN THOMAS/PORTER, TIRAN C./SIMMONS, PAT/JOHNSTON, TOM
© Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Songtext powered by LyricFind
© Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Songtext powered by LyricFind