my bike is not a poem br but imagine a painting br your best br and favorite br the memories while painting it br the greatest br each stroke of the brush br each stroke of precision luck br is with you br over and over br and it follows you br carries you br all through it all br each night collecting on the canvas br only you can see br br she's out there br and i've ignored her for ages now br she's new br new jugs and all br she's still a little loose in the ass end br but we'll straighten that out br i need to shove a little alcohol down her throat br and tickle her with some juice br i truely miss her br and myselfbr br Nat Z.