| Harley-Davidson M-12545
Boy oh boy, how that rackety noise aroused grandma's fears
Who had visions of her man going to smithereens while tears
Were shed because of the 'reckless' way he grove his iron horse
Of wheels 'n spokes along country roads dark with such force
As to cause, behind curtains, many folks' eager tongues wagging
Just to come home at some unchristian hour to a much nagging
Wife who secretly desired mounting his Harley and horse around,
Having fun pulling traces and burning rubber on village ground
'N cobblestone streets were it not for honest, neighbouring people
Gossiping on Sundays while on their way to nearby church 'n steeple
Since nobody every questioned whether grandma was on her way
To heaven or not she was determined not to let on but she did play
The devil's advocate by accusing the unsuspecting, joyful grandfather
Of being a hell's angel, however, the 'wicked sin' she'd much rather
Not even think about became one day too tempting 'n too strong
Even as she caved in she loudly proclaimed riding to be very wrong
But as soon as she felt Harley between her legs she firmed her grip
Onthe handlebars round, put in in first gear and shamelessly let it rip
Through the hamlet in floppy apron 'n black-woolen, ankle-long skirt,
Scaring the daylight out of people by spraying them with dust 'n dirt
Never before did upright folks of the curve witness the 'godless' sight
Of a pious 'old' woman rumbling through a star-studded, late nght
Which had hushed both country-life 'n smith's voice as he snickered
Behind his terrible anvil with laughter since she had sinfully flickered
Her lights on 'n off as to drive away cats 'n dogs 'n old village blues
When finally she pulled in then and kicked off her worn wooden shoes
He nearly filled his pants since grandma provoking 'n daringly rode
His Harley past all them pious wagging tongues to their humble abode
Which hardly could contain his restrained joy so very wicked and gay
Over our dear old grandmother motor-biking the everlasting-long way. |
