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Al Duvall - Bareknuckle Ballerina Lyrics

She plays a game where love means nothing
I do believe they call it tennis
She serves and courts and has a racket
Not unlike a public menace
But this song's about her sister
I met her at the greyhound track
She's fetching, but she won't roll over
And I'm not sure I want her back

I get such a tender feeling
She's a thorny little rosebud
Down beneath her I am kneeling
And I'm mopping up my nose blood
I know there must be some honey
In that hive of angry bees
She's an emerald I'd love to swallow
And smuggle overseas

It's like she's dancing on air, sir
When she dances like a fan, sir
But while you wait for her to care, sir
You should smoke 'em if you can, sir
I've got to visit the organ grinder
And get some monkey glands
I've got a bareknuckle ballerina on my hands
I'd loiter 'round the old gymnasium
Glimpsing my Olympic nymph
You came down off your pedestal and
Cracked my skull against the plinth
In the clinch I took advantage
My swollen lip said "You are swell!"
You held me tight inside a bandage
And told the cops I tripped and fell

When you kiss me with your knuckle
It's a custom I am new to
When you belt me and I buckle
A one-two punch in your tutu
Oh I still cherish that night in Paris
When you were in St. Paul
And when the barkeep says "Name your poison!"
It's your name I call

Oh you give my heart a beating
You take the tree out of the country
And I wonder why I'm greeting
The grunting brunt of your effrontery
And then it hits me- I can't be happy
Without your misery
My little bareknuckle ballerina--golly gee!