If I Were a Badass…

If I were a Badass…

If I were a badass I’d ride a mean bike,
not some crotch-rocket junk, or even a trike.
I’d be decked out in leathers as black as the night
and be itching for action – a brawl or a fight.

Engineer boots black and shiny as glass,
for protecting my feet while I’m kicking some ass.
A trucker’s chained wallet for protecting my cash,
and thick leather gloves just in case there’s a crash.

I’d walk around surly, with an injurious limp,
to let people know – that I ain’t no wimp.
And those who’ve been bitten by the Road Rash Queen,
will know I’m no stranger to that kind of scene.

I’ll have Tat’s on my arms, my neck & my chest,
to show I can hold all that ink with the best.
And a skull cap mounted firmly up on my head,
to let people know I’m the Badass they’ll dread.

I’ll shine up my chrome so it blinds in the sun,
so gawkers can see all the mods that I’ve done.
‘Cause everyone knows bikes are meant to be seen,
not ridden and dirty,… why,… that’s really obscene!

I’ll add on some drag pipes, the louder the better,
to let people know I’m a real go getter.
And a big fat rear tire to let others know,
that I haven’t a clue what it means to go slow.

I’ll hang around Dealers, and give out advice,
and for my opinion – you won’t have to ask twice!
I’ll tell tales of runs, and the trails I’ve been down,
In every watering hole in the town.

And when I’ve grown weary and my voice is a whisper,
I’ll ride into the sunset, just me and my Vespa.

c2015 FurryOne