I Ride Mine

I ride mine, for a motorcycle’s
Meant to ride, you see;
Not hauled around by trailer,
I keep rubber on the street.

I ride mine when I go to work,
And home again each day;
Or just to twist the throttle hard,
And blow my cares away.

I ride mine through cold winter winds,
And showers of the spring;
Baking in the summer sun
‘Til autumn’s cool refrain.

I ride mine through the glare of day,
And darkness of the night;
Sole form of conveyance, never
Caged, or bound in flight.

I ride mine in the cities, ’round
The counties, o’r the states;
Cruise across the country,
Tour wherever asphalt takes.

I ride mine for the friendship of
My brothers in the wind;
Trusting they will have my back,
On me they can depend.

I ride mine for the freedom found
In open, empty roads;
Pure exhilaration with each
Turn as curve unfolds.

My life is in the saddle ’til
I meet my mortal end;
Then through the gates of Heaven or Hell
I ride mine once again.

— Ironbolt Bruce