Mutley, you snickering, floppy eared hound. When courage is needed, you’re never around. Those medals you wear on your moth-eaten chest should be there for bungling at which you are best. So, stop that pigeon, stop that pigeon, stop that pigeon, stop that pigeon, stop that pigeon, stop that pigeon, stop that pigeon. Howwww! Nab him, jab him, tab him, grab him, stop that pigeon now.
Hey there where ya goin’, not exactly knowin’, who says you have to call just one place home. He’s goin’ everywhere, B.J. McKay and his best friend Bear. He just keeps on movin’, ladies keep improvin’, every day is better than the last. New dreams and better scenes, and best of all I don’t pay property tax. Rollin’ down to Dallas, who’s providin’ my palace, off to New Orleans or who knows where. Places new and ladies, too, I’m B.J. McKay and this is my best friend Bear.
I never spend much time in school but I taught ladies plenty. It’s true I hire my body out for pay, hey hey. I’ve gotten burned over Cheryl Tiegs, blown up for Raquel Welch. But when I end up in the hay it’s only hay, hey hey. I might jump an open drawbridge, or Tarzan from a vine. ‘Cause I’m the unknown stuntman that makes Eastwood look so fine.