Since the Nation colours are black and white, here is a little 'ode to bike night, entitled Black Out!
Darkness sets, the civil unrest, bikers mass the Toronto set
Vandals run, ducking guns, twin stacked pipes, battle call
14r, 6th gear so tall, lasts 12 rounds, all night brawl
Round em up, patches on, 14 Nation call to arms
Gather the boys, Aurora sideroad, near the highway, call to war
Line em up, 6 bikes deep, radar guns, escort detects and sits discreet
Wolf hedges up, we ride two men deep
Side by side the highway we creep
Gassers flex, announce to the set, kings are here, manners repped
Bike night explodes, fireballs, 14's park, we all rep right tall
Patched out crew, will subdue, unleashing the hooligan, onto you
Tires churn, wheelies burn, crimson lights, calls for concern
Five- o arrives "move along", fire up, middle fingers get right flung
Pour to the street, rip and eat, any Sucka steppin shall meet catastrophic defeat
Another bike night sets, 'fool' moon hiss, wolfman calls for throttle grip
Mad doging all, who rides astride, pickn up tale, scalpes hung on Wolfman's ride
Perched on the 14r, like a magistrate, crown a blaze, path of the great
Can't explain, or contemplate, the feeling of rep, when 14's commiserate
The ride provides like nothing can, we click up together as solid men
"What's that patch about?" the copper asks, something you'll never know, fuzz punk ass!
For what we have cannot be bought, a membership is often hard won and fought
It's not a sticker, nor a T, membership is for the select and esteemed
Take up the call, what's inside you
Call to arms in the "wake of our war canoe."
Battle cries...brotherhood...each man a brethren...and overstood!
* Last updated by: Wolfman on 10/28/2013 @ 2:05 AM *
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