When i touch my bike
When i turn on the ignition
it hums a slow, low, forgotten tune
that brims my heart with nostalgia.
It sings of the dusty roads
and dustier pubs we stopped by
It sings of the Nevada desert
and the Red Indian warcry.
We've been to many places
to overflowing markets, to empty stretched spaces
with the sky so blue and earth just brown
with the swindling dwindling road, leading to my hometown.
The bike's grown old and so have i
but the feeling to outspace time,I've been told
never really does die.
Mybike still hums the rusty tune
as it passes our last sand dune, &
My mind wanders back to old days
does my heart stops craving for more ? Nay..
My bike reminds me there's still a job to be done
and that's to outrun whom none have ever outdone
That's time, the mighty time
and i promise my mate,that time's gonna lag behind.
My bike hums a tune...