The Crash Poem by Steinar Olafsen

Me and my motorbike went out on a trip
As a black leather phantom i looked cool and hip
But with the sun in my eyes the bike did crash
And my whole life was passing by in a flash

I was afraid of dying but my bike didnt care
Like Bob Dylan's Triumph it sailed through the air
I heard the engine was pumpin with a steady beat
And it smashed to the ground with me underneath

The gods had a meeting and they all did decide
that the joke was on me and noone had died
with a pain in my shoulder that was burning like hell
I knew that I just got a story to tell

With dope from my doctor and wine from my wife
I sat and thought about the luck in my life
how it could have ended with a big-bang that day
I bowed my head and I started to pray:

'Dear gods of the road and the motorbikes too
I just wanna say that i like what you do
Like Dylan and me you let bikers survive
To write beatiful lyrics, hit the highways and drive'