I was lonelier than Kunta Kinte at a Merle Haggard concert
That night I strolled on into Uncle Limpy's Hump Palace lookin' for love.
It had been a while.
In fact, three hundred and sixty-five had come and went
since that midnight run haulin' hog to Shakey Town on I-10.
I had picked up this hitchhiker that was sweatin' gallons
through a pair of Daisy Duke cut-offs and one of those Fruit Of The Loom tank-tops.
Well, that night I lost myself to ruby red lips,
milky white skin and baby blue eyes.
Name was Russell.
Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin'
Yes, a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin'
Well I find it's quite a thrill
When she grinds me against her will
Yes a lap dance is so much better when the stripper is cryin'
Well, faster than you can say, "shallow grave",
this pretty little thing come up to me and starts kneadin' my balls
like hard-boiled eggs in a tube sock.
Said her name was Bambi and I said, "Well that's a coincidence darlin',
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