I was ridin' down that highway
Silver Harley by my side
When I thought I saw my lady
She was headed for the Berkely Hill
Pistol on her hip in case she needed a thrillI don't believe it
Don't believe a word
I don't believe it
Don't believe a wordI said come on with me baby
Don't you want to ride with me
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 jarI don't believe it
Don't believe a word
I don't believe it
Don't believe a word
Songwriters
HOSSACK, MICHAEL JOSEPH/HARTMAN, JOHN THOMAS/PORTER, TIRAN C./SIMMONS, PAT/JOHNSTON, TOMPublished by
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