I gotta cure for them summertime blues. Naw when the heat is on, I aint much fer writin all fancy-like but I do go fer a good read. So I just step outta my garage, pack a bottle a grape and the "Rubayat" into the saddlebags, fire up my scoot and a cruise on down Cataract-way.

You wanna stretch them fine legs a your'n over the b_____ seat? I gotta extra helmet.

An naw these days, I'm gettin' a mite thin up on the dome, but can still take a time to enjoy the finer things a life. Sometimes, they be free. There aint nothin like the wind in yer hairs on a hot summer night.

You be back by sunrise.

Stretching out a gloved hand