THE SOUND OF FREEDOM

                           THE SOUND OF FREEDOM

The time has come, days' work is done,
and now it's time to ride.
It's time to leave the hectic world,
and loose what's built inside.

You don your gear, and in your mind,
your friends, you're out to meet 'em,
You twist your wrist, and kick your leg,
at last, the sound of freedom!

There's something in the sound of pipes,
that sparks a cycler's heart,
It represents the great escape,
right from the very start.

And so you head on down the road,
freedom ringing in your ear,
Leaving far behind all else,
with every single gear.

The time goes by, and 'for you know,
It's time to head on home.
Your slice of freedoms over,
You've no more time to roam.

So soon you're back, and it breaks your heart,
to have to kill that sound.
For you could ride clear through the night,
and never turn around.

But kill you must, because you know,
tomorrow's soon to come,
And with it life's reality,
to which, you must succumb.

But in your heart, you know one thing,
that makes your feelings soar,
Tomorrow night, you'll hear again,
the sound of freedom's roar!