The Wind, The Scoot, The Biker
By: Bob Bryant
That is something not determined by you nor by me
The sun may rise again bringing a day full of new
If so what you do with it, decided solely by you
What is done with today, will be relived by morrow
Take the gift given, create memories without sorrow
As for a biker, he heads out, to the countryside
The wind, the scoot, and a soul abiding ties
The thunderous pipes expressing every thing’s just right
The wind carrying his soul as if on a heavenly flight
The sun on his face, taking notice of everything around
Long hair flowing freely, wild and unbound
Memories stir as the wind clears his head
Remembrances that comfort, remembrances he dreads
Thoughts in his head of days to come and by gone
The wind, a scoot and a biker’s soul, on the roam
It’s all a part of him, from life he’s left behind
He thinks of the shortness of life in the wind
How quickly life transpires from beginning to end
He smiles as he realizes how he spends his days
How he takes nothing so serious, that he forgets how to play
How if tomorrow never comes, bout by a creed he did abide
Bout how the wind, a scoot, and a biker,
Have truly enjoyed the ride
THROUGH AND THROUGH
By : Bob Bryant
Chrome shining in the full moon light
Twist the throttle and take to flight
Leave the hassles of life behind
Feel the wind and free your mind
Lean your iron into a curve
Keep her steady, do not swerve
Let the feeling sooth your soul
Shift the gears and let her roll
The bike you’re riding is a part of you
You are a man that no one else can see through
You like the simpler things in life
You stand your ground, not afraid of strife
Thank God he let you ride again
To sooth your soul and feel his wind
Not even your woman truly understands you
Because you’re a biker through and through
“Written On The Wind”
Most scribed with the pen
However the most accurate accounts, are
“Written on the wind”
You can read the written tales
Till you reach the words “The End”
However the most accurate accounts, are
“Written on the wind”
You can hear bikers tell of road tales
Many told with a grin
However the most accurate accounts, are
“Written on the wind”
The tales of biker lore will go on
That’s just the nature of man
But to understand the moral of the story
You must read what’s
“Written on the wind”
VACATION TIME
By: BOB BRYANT
Sun coming up on the horizon
Gear strapped on the bike
This is starting out to be
The kind of day I like
Vacation started yesterday
Work has left my mind
Oil changed, pressures just right
Lord I’m feelin’ fine
Time for me to get away
Ride away from here
Feel the wind, take the curves
All the while shifting gears
I’m getting ready to hit the rode
Cobwebs will leave my head
Nothing but this ragged old biker
Blue skies, the wind, and my sled
Old boss man can kiss my ass
Won’t hear his shit for eight days
I won’t let the thought of him
Ruin my glorious day
Kissed the ol’ lady, said goodbye
She knows my heart is true
She just knows I need some time
To shake everyday life blues
She knows next week I’ll be back
Knows while I’m gone I won’t stray
She understands that once and awhile
A biker has to get away
By: BOB BRYANT
Damn certain of the past
He used to twist the throttle
His motto “ Life don’t last”
Back when he was a loner
No luggage did he bare
Went through life a free spirit
Chrome horse and long black hair
“A Biker” people called him
“No good can come from him”
“He don’t care about anything”
“Cept’ “Riding in the wind”
Not sure of the future
Damn certain of the past
He’s eased back on the throttle
His motto “ Life’s to fast “
He’s not alone, he has a family
Of his luggage he takes care
But he still has a free spirit
“A Biker” people call him
“He’s a damn good man”
He just seems the happiest
When he’s “Riding the wind”
That Was Then
By : Bob Bryant
That was then, This is now
But the memories never die
Like pictures sitting on a shelf
Back then he was a helluva man
Even today he still stands tall
Hair was dark, but now it’s graying
Never lost that Southern drawl
The rigid that he rode back then
It has been replaced with a dresser
Had the respect of his brothers back then
Even today young bucks answer with “Yes sir”
Had two children, A girl and a boy
Raised them with southern biker pride
Now he says “ She’s mine to spoil”
Of his granddaughter by his side
Times his wife rode with him
Were diminished due to the kids
Now they seem to have more free time
Thus the purchase of two new lids
The colors that he wore back then
Disrespecting them could cause you harm
The colors have been retired since then
But his past is still inked upon his arm
The creed he believed in back then
“ Always be true to your soul “
He still believes that to be true
MY PEERS?
By: Bob Bryant
He told the judge, I don’t believe they’re my peers
Not one of em’s ridden, while shiftin’ the gears
They don’t know nothin’ about being free
Bout’ riding in rain, bout’ feeling the sting
They couldn’t tell a Harley from a schwinn
Let one of them tell you, bout’ riding the road
About having brothers, bout’ abiding by a code
Ask em’ what it feels like, to ride to bike week
Ask em’ about a callused ass, asphalt under your feet
If they can tell you, what these things feel like
Then they are my peers, I’ll be free tonight
