To: ALL
20281.1
Bikers ain't easy to love and they're harder to hold.
They'd rather give you a ride than diamonds or gold.
Brassy belt buckles and old faded leathers,
And each night begins a new day.
If you don't understand him, an' he don't die young,
He'll prob'ly just ride away.
Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be Bikers.
Don't let 'em go boozin or drive them old bikes.
Let 'em be doctors and lawyers and such.
Mamas don't let your babies grow up to be bikers.
'Cos they'll never stay home and they're always alone.
Even with someone they love.
Bikers like smokey old pool rooms and clear mountain mornings,
Little warm puppies and children and girls of the night.
Them that don't know him won't like him and them that do,
Sometimes won't know how to take him.
He ain't wrong, he's just different but his pride won't let him,
Do things to make you think he's right.
Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be Bikers.
Don't let 'em go hoppin or drive them old bikes.
Let 'em be doctors and lawyers and such.
Mamas don't let your babies grow up to be Bikers.
'Cos they'll never stay home and they're always alone.
Even with someone they love.
'Cos they'll never stay home and they're always alone.
Even with someone they love.
Even with someone they love.............