crackling of pipes
a perfect hum of engines
breaking the silence
Nowhere Man
I haven’t rode a motorcycle since 2011.
Riding through the trees was like heaven.
The last thing on earth that's freedom.
He doesn't need much.
Just a few bucks.
Ride on through with sunglasses.
Just ride until your heart's content.
Believe me, there's nothing like it.
Freedom on a bike.
A cool breeze outside.
My shadow rides beside me.
A lonely man on his bike is free.
Not many understand what it means.
On fire, the motor is always burning.
There is nothing like the open road.
Let all your thoughts go out the window.
Early morning ready to take flight.
Nothing else matters in sight.
Burnt tire tracks on the asphalt.
A beautiful day to ride in the fall.
So many memories so long ago.
Ride freely along the winding road.
Trees hover above as I ride below.
It’s like flying through a tunnel.
Just lean against your bike and grab a smoke.
Just cruse right into tomorrow.
Nowhere Man
I haven’t rode a motorcycle since 2011.
Riding through the trees was like heaven.
The last thing on earth that's freedom.
He doesn't need much.
Just a few bucks.
Ride on through with sunglasses.
Just ride until your heart's content.
Believe me, there's nothing like it.
Freedom on a bike.
A cool breeze outside.
My shadow rides beside me.
A lonely man on his bike is free.
Not many understand what it means.
On fire, the motor is always burning.
There is nothing like the open road.
Let all your thoughts go out the window.
Early morning ready to take flight.
Nothing else matters in sight.
Burnt tire tracks on the asphalt.
A beautiful day to ride in the fall.
So many memories so long ago.
Ride freely along the winding road.
Trees hover above as I ride below.
It’s like flying through a tunnel.
Just lean against your bike and grab a smoke.
Just Cruze right into tomorrow.
abrasive noises streaming noisily
motorcycles flabbergast the highway
I hear and pray for their worried mothers
Motorcycle riders terrify me.
I am so afraid I will hurt one.
Just a little slide on water or ice,
And my car could really hurt him badly.
Which would make my life turn fast and sadly.
I see them in my rearview mirror,
And I clench my teeth in solid fear.
I give them a wide berth, after they pass, and are now ahead.
Sending them prayers, not wanting to hear that they are dead.
But six others cars fill in that gap, making me think of his mother dear.
How will she feel when she gets the news? How will she hear?
For all motorcycle riders have mothers, and they are all feeling badly
That their sons are riding their way to their death, and most of them gladly.
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