When a brother's down and doing time
and you're missing him real bad.
The parties and the bars go flat.
They just leave you feeling sad.
You wander through the days and nights,
but nothing feels the same.
When even getting laid's no fun,
its a low down dirty shame.
You wait and watch the mailbox.
A letter really makes your day.
You pour your own heart on the page,
and send it on its way.
You try to keep his spirits up,
while yours are on the slide.
All you can do is wait it out,
'til you both can take that ride.
Gary St. Pierre
15 miles and $15,000 don't make you a Biker
The only time he wears a suit
Is when he goes to court
As far as gentle manners go
He usually comes up short
He has a rough and tumble air
That often scares the folks
But there's a heart that's good as gold
He loves to share a joke
He'll share the T-shirt on his back
Or give you his last buck
But if he needs a ride to the bar
He'll gladly steal your truck
Don't worry though, he'll bring it back
Probably full of gas
If someone cheats one of his friends
He'll smile and kick their ass
Don't trifle with this man
Nor underestimate his smarts
He's different, but he's righteous
He's a biker with a heart
Gary St. Pierre
You'll see him in the bars
You'll see him on the street
In a dusty leather jacket
Kicked back on a Harley seat
Anywhere there's trouble
or excitement, he'll be there
or following some coochie
Now that can lead him anywhere
Living for the moment
No thought for what's to come
Giving everything he's made of
To this moment in the sun
He burns brighter than a rocket
He knows he'll never last
He'll take it to the limit
until his time is past
He'll leave a golden memory
uncounted broken hearts
and just the ghost of a smile
every time a Harley starts
A MAN'S GOTTA HAVE A HOBBY
Gator's parked down by the lake,
watchin' ladies walk down the street
Kicked back on that Panhead,
Damn, those mini-skirts look sweet!
Tube tops hugging firm young tits,
tan lines up to there.
Daisy Dukes and halter tops,
man, the're everywhere.
They're looking back like ladies will,
some shy, some bold as brass.
Checking out that tattooed man
and wiggling their ass.
"Til one brave young blonde
slips up close beside.
Leans in tight and whispers
"Hey Man, take me for a ride!"
Chrome spokes glitter flash and spin like lightning in the sun.
Rolling thunder cracks and echoes. The boys are on a run
Restless two wheeled warriors on steeds of chrome and steel Charging down the highway, making their dreams real.
Grinning like manic madmen roaring through the streets.
A herd of cyborg centaurs. The fusion is complete.
Becoming one with the machine. The ride becomes the goal, and only astride the iron beast, does the man feel truly whole.
