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This myspace is set-up for bikers to participate. They are true heroes in my book. Unselfishly donating their time and efforts for countless good causes, and always there to help anyone in need. We talk of heroes today and sometimes we forget the ones in our own communities. Always keep the road under your feet and the wind at your back. Any organization affiliated with bikers may advertise on this space. This is a space for participation so lets gather here for tunes, announcements, art and good times. Thank you everyone. JD Roland
God Bless our Brave and Elite Fighting Force
Die Terrorrists Die(EXPLICIT LYRICS)
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Dalton’s Day
Dalton hadn’t chosen this life of crime
Rather it had found him in his prime
He thought himself a much better man
Than the stories told across this land
He watched for the posse sun-up ‘till sun-down
Wanted Dead or Alive in every town
A promise of fame, a bounty for blood
For the man that brought young Dalton down
A wisp of smoke appeared over the rise
While he thought about his someday demise
Some day a law man would lay him to rest
And a legend he’d be, with some of the best
A specter appeared to his wandering eye
A lone rolling tumble weed across a red sky
He thought of days that had long since gone
A simpler time on his daddy’s farm
The ghostly whistle from a distant place
It was old No. 7 slowly making its way
Ten miles away if his guess was true
Till he started the fray for the payroll soon due
He thought again about White Feather
And the trips they made together
Making love beneath a full silvery moon
Then lie with the wolves and sleep until noon
He took out his pistol dubbed Sidewinder
And spun the chamber just to make sure
His double barrel was full of buckshot
He cinched up his saddle snug and taught
The rhythm came closer as the sun moved dow
n
With one fluid motion to saddle from ground
Not that he needed the money you see
He had saved all his life to retire free
He had robbed No 7 before with success
And lightened the load of every guest
Get ready he must if ready he’ll be
When the train stops at watering tower three
He stopped for a moment and looked over his shoulder
An ambush he sensed if he moved any closer
Grey was his steed and he started to slow
Dalton won’t end his days feeding the Gallows
He pulled at Grey’s rains and turned him away
As No 7 stopped at tower three that day
Dalton slowly road away, a destination in mind
White Feather and Mexico to live out his time
He’d answer to God when he’d finally lie down
But not shot in the back in some dusty old town
He’d live out his days in a Mexico dream
And hide from his ghosts in a Spanish canteen
2006©jdroland
