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,