I have had much in my life, and I enjoyed love and pleasure.
These carefree days made me blind, a fool who lost everything through his own fault, and today only memories remain.
I had friends who surrounded me, gatherings and laughter; family would come together, and we would toast together, sheltered in my good and comfortable home. On weekends, the old and good rock and roll was inevitable at the bar of a great friend—almost a brother—who run it and sang there. The night would end in the welcoming arms of someone who is now gone, after the long ride home on my chopper.
Today, nothing remains; there are no friends, no family, no gatherings, no bars, no motorcycles, or beloved arms.
It’s not so bad if I don't want to be rich, but the little I want is so far beyond my misery.
But some day, I will have back my old and good motorcycle, my bottle of Jack Daniel’s, a fine cigar between my fingers, and the wind on my face from the roads—yeah, the same long roads, companions of a lifetime, which will take me back home.
A new beloved one? Who knows...
It will be a long, long way home.
Walter Biancardine
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