We fired up those B-M-Ws at the break of dawn, two old souls chasing freedom down a two-lane song. You, the retired cop with nerves of steel and grace; me, just happy to follow in your perfect pace. Talimena curves and Ozark hills we'd ride, sharing memories that celebrate our friendship memorial across five states, twisting side by side.
Oh, we snaked that pavement, brother, hour after hour, thunder in our chests and the wind our only power. Cold beer at sunset, stories tall and true, with museums on the backroads, just me and you. Now the road feels empty, the horizon too wide, but I still hear your engine riding by my side. Vick, you're gone, but the miles we shared never fade; in every twist and turn, your memory has been made.
You taught me how to lean and read the line, from Oklahoma sun to Arkansas pine. Wives laughing behind us, gloves on our hands, building lifetimes together during those unforgettable motorcycle rides across the land.
Oh, we snaked that pavement, brother, hour after hour, thunder in our chests and the wind our only power. Cold beer at sunset, stories tall and true, with museums on the backroads, just me and you. Now the road feels empty, the horizon too wide, but I still hear your engine riding by my side. Vick, you're gone, but the miles we shared never fade; in every twist and turn, your memory has been made.
Sometimes I ride out alone into the evening air, see you in the saddle, brother, always there. Yeah, we snaked that pavement one last time; your spirit in the curves, forever in my mind. Cold beer in heaven, save one for me—we'll ride again someday, wild and free. Thank you for the miles, Vick, my old friend… my brother… goodbye.