The Boy With Green Hair

I saw him skating in the park.
He made me wanna bark out loud.
I had to pull my chain and stop right there.
No tee-shirt, phat jeans,
Suggesting thoughts obscene,
With the F.U.C.K. on his underwear,
That boy with green hair.

And he was falling off his board
I was laying on the grass.
He just took my breath away.
What a beautiful ass.
Wonder if I got a chance.
Do we listen to the same bands?
Have I got a prayer
With that boy with green hair.

But there’s nothing about him that says he is gay.
No, there’s nothing about him that gives it away.
If he’s queer, if he’s straight,
I could not estimate,
But I know that at least he ain’t square,
That boy with green hair.

I saw him at the gig, he
Was dancing just like Iggy.
I wanna be your dog-boy, I declare.
Like a character from a Manga,
Animated fist-of-anger,
In the mosh-pit, jumping up and punching air,
That boy with green hair.

And he was dancing like a fiend,
Soaked in sweat, and so was I.
He just took my breath away,
When he caught my eye.
Then he asked me for a smoke,
So I offered him a toke.
Not the only thing I’d share
With that boy with green hair.

But there’s nothing about him that says he is gay.
No, there’s nothing about him that gives it away.
If he’s queer, if he’s straight,
I could not estimate,
But I know that at least he ain’t square,
That boy with green hair.

I saw him drinking with a dude,
Being loud and being lewd,
Bonding in a game of Truth or Dare.
Then the question came his way:
“Would you fuck a guy for pay?”
And he looked right at me, I would swear,
That boy with green hair.

Then he was taking off his shoes,
Taking off his shirt and pants,
Standing up among the booze.
And he started to dance.
And as the bouncer dragged him out.
He let off a drunken shout:
“I would fuck whatever. I don’t care.”
My boy with green hair.

Well there’s something about you that’s definitely queer.
But are you a faggot, or just fucking weird.
With your choke-chain and wrist-band,
How far do you twist? And
Just give me the word – I’ll be there.
My boy with green hair.

They say bisexuality’s six drinks away.
Let me buy you a drink, let me lead you astray.
Maybe we could meet later,
My little punk skater,
Go out on a date, or
Just mutually masturbate.

That boy with green hair.