IT AIN'T EASY

Woke and took a swig of PBR
Thanked the Lord I didn’t drive a car
Cuffed my jeans
Lookin’ real mean
I’ve got the most vintage flannel by far.

I choose my favorite pair of shoes
My lucky Vans highlighted with blues
But I start to wonder
If I’d made a blunder
Should I have worn my Chucks while I cruise.

Tucked my stash under the seat
Buzzed to the bar down the street
Proclaimed how much I hate
Nightsters, Irons, and 48’s
‘Cause those rubes just can’t compete.

Spied a chick with a tattoo
Went to talk, ‘cause I have some too
Bought her a Stella
And started to tell her
What my period-correct bike could do.

I could tell she was creamin’ her jeans
Hanging out with a dude from the scene
I’m sure she’ll hear
I’ve been riding bikes for over a year
And I know what ‘Friscoed’ means.

She’s a lady after my own heart
She has a collection of David Mann art
It would have gone well
But damn it to hell
The bike took 29 kicks to start.

So I went to my friend’s and smoked some weed
After all, chicks aren’t what I need
The open road
Or so I’m told
Will cure all doubts while going at full speed.

Off to my pad to pack my essential gear
Ipod, cell phone and organic beer
Plus a tool or two
‘Cause it’s true
This bike’s broke down five times this year.

Billy and Wyatt sure would be proud
Popping my throttle ‘cause my pipes are so loud
Setting off a car alarm
It’s part of the charm
And I’m off leaving only a dust cloud.

I remember that I better gas up soon
Ridden so long, it’s just about noon
My two gallon tank
Sure does look swank
Though it’ll only get me to the local saloon.

Back on the road and making good time
Just can’t believe this luck of mine
Just out of town
I break down
Thanks to a clogged gas line.

Truthfully I can’t help but groan
Then pulling over, I curse and I moan
On the road-side
With my bruised pride
This damn situation is well-known

After a while, I holler and hoot
I celebrate that I fixed my scoot
Give it a rip
Resume my trip
Following my interrupted route.

Every bike I pass, I give a wave
Part of the ‘Brotherhood’; we’re so brave
Doing my part
Gladdens my heart
Obtaining the recognition that I crave.

Now I’m looking for a place to park
Wouldn’t want to drive in the dark
I find a bed
To rest my head
The idea of camping’s a foolish lark.

I think of stories to tell my friends
On how a good road-trip depends
On getting ass
Smoking grass
And documenting everything through a camera lense.

It sure has been a heck of a day
So now to finish this cliche
Polished my HOG
Updated my blog
Now back to watching SOA.