Cycle Service Plus

I don't want to pickle, just want to ride my motor sickle. And I don't want to tickle, I'd rather ride my motor sickle. And I don't want to die, just want to ride my motor sickle. That's amazing that somebody could get away with singing a song like this for about eight years, And I told about everyt I told about when I wrote it and how and why. But the one t It was about the time I was riding my motorcycle down a mountain road. I was doing 150 miles an hour. I was playing my guitar. One side of the mountain road there was a mountain. And on the other side there was not There was just a cliff in the air. I wasn't paying attention. And Driving your motorcycle on a mountain road. A lot of curves and stuff Playing your guitar. All of a sudden a string broke off my guitar. It broke right around here when flying across the road and wrapped itself around a yield sign. Well The string didn't break. It didn't come out of my guitar. So I held on to my guitar and I held on to my bike. And I made a sharp turn off the road. But luckily I didn't go into the mountain. I went over the cliff. I was doing 150 miles an hour sideways and 500 feet down at the same time. I was looking for the cops because I knew that it was illegal. Well I knew that was it. I knew that I didn't have long to live in t And in my last remaining seconds in the world I decided to write one last farewell song to the world. I'd ride my motorcycle. I took out a piece of paper. And I don't want to tickle. I'd rather ride my motorcycle. And I. . .