Dedicated to Felix LeRoy Perry (Fee) hoping to stay alive long enough to make that trip.
Hope Fee will take a few extra strings for his guitar, because it is going to be a bumpy ride on that old girl Route 66.

Two Harleys and two old happy geezers,
one named Georg the other named Fee,
one day for no reason they decided to go
burning rubber on that old Road Sixty six,
with an old guitar full of dusty blues
and smiling like the cat that got the cream,
because between them very happy two
was riding one hot mamma biker chick!

Now imagine, a ride down from Canada
all the way into Chicago and Road 66
with chow calls on many trucker’s stops
and campfires where all whispers begins
inside a guitar that knows all about pain
and love taking you heart for a wild spin,
when you are old maybe you can remember
without regret so many of those little things.

The windy city welcomed us with a drizzle
which put on our receding back some wings
if that was Frank Sinatra his kind of town
we don’t wonder aiming for Springfield,
and to roll a little hitting small town Rolla
riding afterward into St. Louis like two Kings,
sitting on their Harley Davidson’s thrones
comfortable fitted to old any willing Queen.

Going west like been called by gold rush,
Tulsa are waiting and Oklahoma city is,
rolling pass Shamrock and Texas Amarillo
but stopping on Mamma Rosa on Tucumcari,
we were flying back in time, getting younger,
the road, a red carpet lay down for two VIP
on the soft growler sounds of purring motors
riding into the sunset that you can only dream.

Albuquerque, Holbrook and fair Flagstaff,
will remember afterward the tunes sung by Fee,
and the melancholic twang of his old guitar
that poured a few tears on Georg’s Coors beer,
you can’t travel very long with company without,
two friends riding alongside a hot biker chick,
even if she wasn’t there but only in their heads
hitting Barstow, end of the Route, was a dream.