Boys In The Sun

The smell of gasoline and oil, stained on rags and caked on dust
A musky cologne only boys know
Cheeks burned red, stung by riding through the air
Blasting turbines punish legs that ache to wobble like rubber
Sand dunes and rocky climbs
Creeks, split splashing
Hondas that hone loud
Where Suzukis, screech and buzz
To Kawasakis that scream, kowabunga
Leaving Yamahas to fly ‘hiya’ and ‘hiya’
Ride the wild, free in the sun
Off the beaten path to come undone
It’s all about the thrill and the rush between the legs
Another way of jerking off like…
Boys In The Sun
Ending the day cooling off with a beer or two
Talking into the wind while sucking on a cig
Wishing for the stars to appear
And the dreams of…
Boys In The Sun
Their girls getting ready for a night on the town
Garters and lace draws thoughts of ooh-la-la
Dinner with champagne
Dancing to an orchestra
What woman wouldn’t wanna?
Considering, the man coming home is Steve McQueen
The coolest of the Boys In The Sun