I was her mean motor scooter Until a big hunky Harley came along. I took her out putt-putting There didn’t seem to be anything wrong But for a just a little bit more torque I was left behind ******* in smoke. When she saw his big old motor My Cushman eagle looked like a joke.
Putt, putt, putt… But, but, but… I really thought I had it made And now I’m sitting in the shade On the side of a lonely street. The race was run and I got beat.
I asked her to a picture show She smiled and said that would be fine. Come the day we meant to go She made and excuse that felt like a line. She said she had an ailing aunt But later I saw her get off of his hog. Now, I feel just like scooter trash, An unsightly little bump on a log.
Putt, putt, putt… But, but, but… I really thought I had it made And now I’m sitting in the shade On the side of a lonely street. The race was run and I got beat.
Don’t get me wrong about her I don’t really mean to put her down, She just wanted a bigger deal With which to tool around the town. When she sat rode behind me I really should have guessed you see She made a kind of vrooming sound Like I was going ninety three.
Putt, putt, putt… But, but, but… I really thought I had it made And now I’m sitting in the shade On the side of a lonely street. The race was run and I got beat.