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,
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