I'm not a romantic; you say it seems; Let me tell you a little about me; I ride center line on my Harley Queen; chase the sun down through Heaven's gleam; I wear my hair out long, my face grown mean; Cowhide boots and boot cut jeans; Don two layers of leather in any type of weather; My chains weigh me down but they keep me together; So now you tell me what romantic means; I'd ride to Hell and back just to keep my dreams