Where every town is a Harley town,
The vee-twins, they be croozin'.
But lemmings they was,
with bikes just alike,
As are eggs sold in a doozen.
"Your bike's like mine,
and mine like yours."
And that's the way they like it.
"'Cause how Willie G. sez it will be,
That's the way we tyke it."
But down the street, a-lookin' sweet,
Comes a one lung'd sumpin'.
Narrow and lean,
As it rolled on the scene,
It's engine a-making a thumpin'.
The rider inspired, when the engine backfired,
Thought if they don't like it that's tuff.
He waved with his hand,
Dropped his kickstand,
And the tailpipe gave off a chuff.
They stared in confusion, like it was optic'illusion.
Half of the motor was missing!
"How could that run?
How could it be fun?"
(If each other's arse they weren't kissing)
"Is it an ol' Harley, a Beemer or Beezer?"
"My grandad he had one of those."
The rider said, "Looky,
It's made by Suzuki.
A hefty 650, ya' knows..."
"A Jap bike!" they cried as they all stepped aside,
Their ogling had turned into shame.
"Our American ride
Is our sole source of pride,
Now you're trying to ruin our game."
Some pulled off their doo-rags and dabbed at their tears,
Some went inside to finish their beers.
One little fella, all covered with dirt,
Said, "How can you ride,
Without an H-D T-shirt?
The Savage Rider about busted his gut,
he stood for a moment to cool off his butt.
"Have none-a' you guys got half a clue?
It ain't what you ride, it's all what you do.
It ain't what you buy, it's the miles you bear.
It ain't about logos, but wind in your hair."
"A motorcyclist should soar like bird,
But when I see you people I think of a herd.
A great big ol' barnyard of chrome plated sows.
Barges of billet, and oversized scows."
About this time he gave it some thought,
whether or not his welcome was shot.
The bikers were dissed and ready to fight.
So he made up his mind he could no linger,
And he spit on the ground and gave them the finger,
As his thumper roared off on into the night.
-gitarzan (2005)
Pages: 1
