Mr. Motorcycle Man,
where'd you get that deep dark tan?
Did you get in Barbados,
or rid'n free across our land?
Did you scrape to buy that bike,
or did law school lend a hand?
You just don't understand what makes a motorcycle man.

Look at that joker on a brand-new hog;
I bet he drinks the special,
and has a trendy dog.
A fifty-dollar haircut
underneath his pristine helmet;
the first time that he drops it,
his wife will make him sell it!

Mr. Motorcycle Man,
where'd you get that deep dark tan?
Did you get in Barbados,
or rid'n free across our land?
Did you scrape to buy that bike,
or did law school lend a hand?
You just don't understand what makes a motorcycle man.

I have known the joy;
I know rid'n sets you free,
but I don't have the fire;
no it's not the life for me.
I know I should not judge you,
and you have every right,
but you cannot purchase freedom,
and acquire a way of life.

Mr. Motorcycle Man,
where'd you get that deep dark tan?
Did you get in Barbados,
or rid'n free across our land?
Did you scrape to buy that bike,
or did law school lend a hand?
You just don't understand what makes a motorcycle man . . .

You just don't understand what makes a motorcycle man.