Buncha broke ass, can't get outta the chair, hold on, the pills are kicking in, here's the chain saw, I can't use tools the bottle says, you go an do my work, I'm going on the bike and pill it that way. Take a gun to my head is take the throttle instead.
I'm on that raggedge line, and it's my crime, my dime I worked too hard or not hard enough. Stalking pray to live is no, buildis modern bridge, you are in a civil environment with more pissants than an ant farm is I'm late for work, outta the way, you bunch of broke down, turn around, oops, that hurt, I spun too fast.
Bunch of class act is say, you're more worse off than I, and that gun looks stupid now to me, and how I thought I had it bad is even more bad out there than just this old scratch my ass, ouch, I can't do this and can't do that, the fuck a duck seems all outta luck.
Oh fuck Q and 'suck it up' is wear these shoes now you cocksuck is how's it feel now, brown cow? Day after day is figure that trigger is have to let it pass, jump on the bike and let it kick ass soon as you see that air change note, hear the horizon all in a blare is the glare, the pill kicked in, I can close my eyes any time now.
Tormenting the motorcycling community one post at a time