Thrown at random, and meant, to near strangers
   But, don't come any closer
   What you see is a mirage
   I am not what you want
   You will be disappointed
        Many have
   Like a turtle I retreat into my shell
   When someone tries to come to near
   Cool waters have never run so deep, my dear
   But I did mean what I said
   Take it as a compliment from a stranger
        Its best that way.

The Song

  Idling through the traffic - barely over 30
  And it comes - just a noise at first in the background
  Changing gears - keeping the pace up
  Like clockwork it winds up and winds down
  Still idling along - but no gap is left unfilled
  A change down and a blip of the throttle

  And then the lights change ahead
  The traffic opens up
  And its away
  Ahhh, the sweet song of a large bore Japanese bike in full flight.


(C) Copyright September 1999
Ewan Elliott
All Rights Reserved