AWA

Hard-Loving Loser

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He's the kind of guy puts on a motorcycle jacket And he weigh about a hundred and five He's the kind of surfer got a ho-daddy haircut And you wonder how he'll ever survive He's the kind of frogman wearin' twenty pounds of counterweights And sinkin' in the sea like a stone He's the kind of soldier got no sense of direction And they send him in the jungle alone But when the frost's on the pumpkin and the litle girls are jumpin' He's a hard lovin' son of a gun He's got them waitin' down the stairs just to sample his affairs And they call him a spoonful of fun He's the kind of person goin' ridin' on a skateboard And his mind's ragin' out of control He's the kind of person goes to drive a Maserati Puts his key inside the wrong little hole He's the kind of ski bum tearin' wild down the mountain Hits a patch where there ain't any snow He's the kind of cowboy got a hot trigger finger Shoots his boot 'cause he's drawin' kind of slow But when it comes in for rollin', he's an expert at bowlin' Sets the pins up and lays 'em right down He's got them takin' off their heels and they like the way he feels And they call him a carnival clown He's got a parachute and screamin' out, "Geronimo" And makes a little hole in the ground He's the kind of logger when the man hollers, "Timber" Got to stop and look around for the sound He's the kind of artist rents a groovy little attic And discovers that he can't grow a beard He's the human cannon ball come in for a landin' And he wonders where the net disappeared But when he takes off his shoes, man, it won't come as news He's got them linin' up in threes and in twos He's got them paintin' on the floor, got them beggin' for some more And they call him whatever they choose

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