Strange Roads

Sometimes life takes you down a road
you've been down before.
Sometimes where you planned to go,
on time and nothing more.
But the best adventures of my life,
the best I've come to know
were when we rode uncharted roads
to find out where they'd go.

Narrow Roads

Narrow roads will test your skill,
keep you on the line,
teach respect, patience
and riding slow to make fast times.
Narrow roads will keep you sharp
or throw you if you let them
and take your money every time
that you should try to bet them.

So Much More

Through valleys low and mountains high
we traveled through it all.
It seemed we had been everywhere,
the greatest we'd seen fall.
But as it was it's not enough
so we searched behind each door
always knowing somewhere else
there must be so much more.

Bored And Stroked

Two by two we made our way
to blaze a trail of glory,
change the world, have some fun
and write our own life's story.
We'd celebrate by running great,
our pipes, like trumpets roared
and though we might get tired and worn
our lives were never bored.

Chain Drive

You never keep it oiled enough.
Its adjustment you ignore.
Without it I am nothing
but to touch it you deplore.
It is my very essence
but you snap it in half
then bitch and moan the whole walk home
'bout how you want a shaft.

Midnight Ride

Spinning tires and burning gas,
from here to there and always fast.
We set new records each time we go
then break away, the winds we know.
A flash of chrome, flame from my tips
as on my throttle, Veggie blips.
When up ahead we see our mark
and run him down to strike the spark...

that finally seals his fate.

London Fog

We made our was 'cross London Bridge
down by the Borough Market,
Veggie glad I'm not a car
as there was no place to park it.
We motored on to Buckingham
to find nobody home,
ran over the last London frog
and broke its every bone.

Starting Problems

He kicked and kicked
and kicked and kicked
'till he blew out his knee
only to discover then
that he'd forgot the key.

Then limped home, a failed motorcycle thief.

Nowhere To Go

You speak your mind
and no one cares.
You ride away
and no one stares.
The road's the only place we know
just two old friends
nowhere to go.

Wack 'Em All

Each twist and turn a wiggly worm,
the road laid out before me
and though I might soon die of fright
the road would never bore me.
Through hill and dale, highway and trail
we traveled 'cross the land
so vegetables could lay to waste
at Veggie's mighty hand.

Scrap Metal Car

I was loaded heavy, hard to pull
as we started up the grade
a fast car bearing down on us
only inches to persuade,
when up ahead in front of us
a truck had blocked the road
so we rode the guardrail 'round the rig
and the car was never sold...

Scooter Tramp

I bummed around from town to town
passed on from hand to hand,
no one knowing what I was,
no one could understand.
They all thought themselves the very best
but never heard me run
then abandoned me with fewer parts
worse off than I'd begun.

Happy Slave

Gently twist the throttle,
ease out on the clutch--
just a little, not a lot.
No need to do too much.
Release the brake and
off we go to where I cannot say
for you're the one who's in control,
I'm just your slave today.

Scowl

Idling's not good for me.
It wears internal parts,
hurts my oil's viscosity
and makes for harder starts,
leaves deposits on my pistons,
sludge in my crank case
and when I'm broke on the side of the road
a scowl upon your face

Streetfighter

'Twas a starlit night, the moon shined bright,
a chill was in the air.
My pipes delight, their tone just right
and us without a care
when from the far horizon rose a nose despite a face
to chase us down, spin around
and challenge us to race.

Roswell

'Twas down in Roswell in '47
along the Vickery Creek,
we spotted men we'd never seen
all grey, their voices squeaked.
They crashed almost on top of us.
We're lucky we got away
for if by chance, had I stalled
we'd not be here today.

Motorcycle Pickup Artist

Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
Motorcycles are fun
like fishing and zoos,
like trips to the ocean
and splashing about--
if you try me you'll like me,
of that I've no doubt.

Premature Baldness

Is that rust there on my chrome?
Why are my pipes so blue?
Why are my tires so very thin?
Oh what am I to do?
I'm growing old before my time,
my spark is getting weak.
Before you know it I'll not run
nor will I even squeak.

Me And Bobbie McGee

Busted flat in Baton Rogue
stuck by the railroad track
wondering if I'll ever roll,
if he ever will come back.
Wondering why I'm all alone
staring at a dyke
waiting for a new front tire.
One without a railroad spike.

Crossing The Big Muddy

We doubled back a mile or more
to get a running start,
Did a burn out, tire hot,
stressing every part.
I roared as fast as I could go
then leaped into the air
the Mississippi just below
'til we'd land no worse for wear.