riding Dosquatch The machine, the road and I Dance our frantic dance, A blur of curious shape And color And sound. The engine's song, A scream of glee Keeps harmony with the happy note Of tire and pavement. The wind in my face Brings to me the fragrance Of cut grass And growing corn And cookouts and rivers and trees. The machine, the road, and I Dance our frantic dance Over the twist and sway Of the land. A moment here, a moment there, A moment and I am gone On to the next Moment, hill, twist, and curve. Destined for anywhere The road may lead, Destined for nowhere at all, Destined to wander To lands forgotten Alone through space and time. A twist of the throttle and we are free, The machine, the road, and I. 040521 what's it to you? who go blather from