He's too young to die
too old to cry
if he talks of love
people might laugh
he's too lough for love
too butch to cry
he's a stud, a stud, a stud, a stud
One and only friend
his motorbike
speedin' on the road
wind in his eyes
beatin' up the old
too shy to fight
he's a stud, a stud, a stud, a stud
He's too proud to jerk
too pretty to work
standin' in a street
trousers too tight
he's sellin' himself
to make a few bucks
he's a stud, a stud, a stud, a stud
Sure, he lies, he cheats
whenever we meet
he has no finesse
just a pretty face
he's so good
I can't send him away
he's a stud, a stud, a stud, a stud
A stud, a stud
a 50 dollar-leather-trousered-stud!
