The Stud

He's too young to die

too old to cry

if he talks of love

people might laugh

he's too lough for love

too butch to cry

he's a stud, a stud, a stud, a stud

One and only friend

his motorbike

speedin' on the road

wind in his eyes

beatin' up the old

too shy to fight

he's a stud, a stud, a stud, a stud

He's too proud to jerk

too pretty to work

standin' in a street

trousers too tight

he's sellin' himself

to make a few bucks

he's a stud, a stud, a stud, a stud

Sure, he lies, he cheats

whenever we meet

he has no finesse

just a pretty face

he's so good

I can't send him away

he's a stud, a stud, a stud, a stud

A stud, a stud

a 50 dollar-leather-trousered-stud!

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