I wore a leather jacket once
and tried to play it cool.
The more I tried to be the man
the more I looked the fool.
I got myself a motorbike
and learned to utter ‘Ayyyy!’
but when I tried to woo the chicks
they ran the other way.
I greased my hair. I jumped a shark.
I tried to hone my craft,
but when I snapped my fingertips . . .
everybody laughed.
And though I felt this ridicule
was really bloody cruel
I knew I had to cultivate
a different kind of cool.
I’ve thrown my leather jacket out.
I’ve thrown my comb out too.
I’m Fonzie in a cardigan
and that will have to do.