Old Favorite Bicycles - POTD
(Verse 1)
Rust on the spokes but the memory shines,
Dust on the frame like a map of old times,
Handlebars crooked from corners we’d take,
Chasing the sunset down every mistake.
Scraped knees and laughter stitched into the air,
Freedom was something we didn’t know we’d wear.
(Pre-Chorus)
No keys, no clocks, no place we had to be,
Just spinning wheels and a wild, wide “we.”
(Chorus)
Oh those old favorite bicycles, rolling through our days,
Chain-singing summers in a hundred golden ways,
Pedals pushing promises down every street we knew,
With the wind as our witness and the sky as our view.
We were kings of the cul-de-sac, queens of the lane,
Riding forever, never feeling the chain.
(Verse 2)
Bell that would ring like a bright little boast,
Racing our shadows we loved the most,
Trading our stories at the corner store,
Counting loose change for a dream and more.
Tires would whisper on warm, worn roads,
Carrying secrets only childhood knows.
(Pre-Chorus)
We thought the world was a circle we’d trace,
Round and around in that reckless grace.
(Chorus)
Oh those old favorite bicycles, rolling through our days,
Chain-singing summers in a hundred golden ways,
Pedals pushing promises down every street we knew,
With the wind as our witness and the sky as our view.
We were kings of the cul-de-sac, queens of the lane,
Riding forever, never feeling the chain.
(Bridge)
Now they’re leaning in garages, quiet and still,
But I swear I can hear them beyond the hill—
Calling my name in a soft, spinning rhyme,
Turning the wheels of a simpler time.
(Final Chorus)
Oh those old favorite bicycles, echo in my mind,
Rolling through the roads we can’t rewind,
But somewhere in the distance, in the dust and blue,
That child is still riding, still breaking through.
With the wind as a whisper and the past in flame,
I ride them again every time I remember their name.
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