My legs are my motor
The wind blows behind
Neither mod nor rocker
Just a man on a ride
Like the kid at Christmas
By the lead colored tide
No dreams of darkness
Just a boy on a ride
The endless hill climb
Breathing petroleum air
Descending rush of time
Blows through my greying hair
With my legs as my motor
I ride








I like
Thanks for reading.
Queen put it better than me.
Regards James