The Crash

Me and my motorbike went out on a trip As a black leather phantom i looked cool and hip But with the sun in my eyes the bike did crash And my whole life was passing by in a flash I was afraid of dying but my bike didnt care Like Bob Dylan's Triumph it sailed through the air I heard the engine was pumpin with a steady beat And it smashed to the ground with me underneath The gods had a meeting and they all did decide that the joke was on me and noone had died with a pain in my shoulder that was burning like hell I knew that I just got a story to tell With dope from my doctor and wine from my wife I sat and thought about the luck in my life how it could have ended with a big-bang that day I bowed my head and I started to pray: "Dear gods of the road and the motorbikes too I just wanna say that i like what you do Like Dylan and me you let bikers survive To write beautiful songs, hit the highways and drive"