And I quietly count with her gone
 Name any number and I'm counting beyond
 Playing it coolly, though you know it isn't even really there
 Caress one night away, I was looking for more
 More, more, more
 
 But she
 She speeds
 Elusive as a thief in the night, she's stealing away
 She rides the wind, she burn, burns
 Yeah she rides the wind, she burn, burns
 
 And her speeding, her freedom's what's appealing to me
 to stop her in her tracks
 Match an act with flat tactics of attack
 These eyes may be steady but my cigarette is shaking
 With way deep saying, why don't you leap in
 But she, she goes, so no
 Leave it, but you know at times it seems
 oh I need her more than my mind
 Yeah, I need her more than my mind
 Oh I need her more than my mind
Straitjacket Fits
				
			 
			
		 
			
				
			
			
				And I to my motorcycle parked like the soul of the junkyard. Restored, a bicycle fleshed with power, and tore off. Up Highway 106 continually drunk on the wind in my mouth. Wringing the handlebar for speed, wild to be wreckage forever.
 
- James Dickey, Cherrylog Road.
			
			
		 
	
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