Flyin down this hill on my schwin   Well I guess this is where it all begins   Go in sandburg come out like ray charles   An odor of jasmine for yer flowers   Sometimes on my bicycle rides   These pleasantries fall from the trees   Little quixote's fished out like floaties   From the bevy of yer choice      Ladies choice      Flyin down this hill on my schwin   Well I guess it all could have ended then   Unlike consternation's quagmire above   The streets firmly paved ways   Coupled with speed and gravity   And the craniums tendency   To leak vital information   All over the road to recovery