"Just call it LSD-Rock"
We usually stand by the gate on hot summer nights,
Listening for a Harley as it slowly rumbles by;
In a silent salute to friends that have died,
Saying goodbye on the hot summer night;
Once in a while, they ride through the gate,
Rusted, and busted and twisted with age;
The men walk slowly with shimmering eyes,
The women with tears say lonely goodbyes;
Every once in a while someone comes to stay,
How they came here, it’s hard to say;
Sometimes they go down on some stretch of highway,
Some say goodbye the old-fashioned way;
As our brothers and sisters are laid to rest,
The leaves seem to rustle with a quiet sigh;
As the spirits of our brothers and sisters,
Say their last goodbye;
We’ll never forget the lives that we’ve led,
No matter whether they were good or bad:
The wonderful time that we had in our lives,
Riding down the highways with friend’s on our bikes:
The thundering vibrations as we roar down the road,
The gentle touch of the ones we no longer hold;
The love of our brothers and sister worth more than gold,
These are the things we will miss to our very souls;
On one of these long lonely days,
You’ll see an Angel on some lonesome highway;
Please! Stop and Wait!
Think of ones inside that rusted gate;
For we are the Guardian Angels that hold your fate;
Written By an old time old-lady
Living with an old time old man.
Mrs. Maddog (Cindy Harris)
Mrsmaddog1@aol.com
Copyright July 16,2004
Heavy dirty rock, hard as concrete and steaming like a turbodiesel.
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